And the Truth Shall Set You Free
by silverskies
Summary: Response to the Veritaserum Challenge. Starts PreHogwarts. Harry cannot lie, how does this affect him? And what happens when he meets an escapee from Azkaban?
1. Prologue: Two Men and a Baby

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in key events. May later contain slash, albeit much, much later.

Based off the Veritaserum Challenge

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AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By SilverSkies

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PROLOGUE: Two Men and a Baby

James Henry Potter, Auror First Class was currently in a very happy place – himself and his best friend, who had incidentally been his Best Man at his wedding, were utterly and completely intoxicated. This while not being particularly noteworthy, was made far more interesting by the addition of other later elements – being a crying baby - James" son Harry, the possession of Veritaserum, accidental magic, a bar of soap and a rubber duck.

Sirius and James were in the midst of reminiscing about their various exploits as the pranksters known as the Marauders and were currently arguing about whether it would have been better to plant Slytherins in the Dungbomb common room or at the table in the Big Eating Place. Suffice to say, they were pretty out of it.

Until It happened – all of a sudden, there emerged this horrible sound, which had the two fearless Aurors clutching each other in shock. After a few seconds the sound penetrated their alcohol-fogged brains and James was the first to recognise what it was.

"Harry's crying. Where's Lily?"

"Prongs, mate, have you already for…for… can't you 'member? She's round at Frank an' Alice's."

There was a quiet moment as the two men processed this thought.

"I guess that means we have to see what Harry wants…" James spoke the inevitable conclusion aloud and they staggered up the stairs.

Once in Harry's room, the baby soon ceased his wailing as he caught sight of the two men and sobbed quietly, interspersed with hiccoughs. James walked unsteadily to the cot and peered over the railing at his son.

"Hey Bambi, what's got you in a state?" To which Harry screwed up his face and James, anticipating another crying fit, quickly picked up his son. "Shh, there now, Daddy's got you…" he said, before noticing that Harry's nappy appeared unpleasantly full. "Damn. Padfoot we have a problem."

"Problem, what problem? The baby Prongs s'no longer cryin' – job well done, I'd say."

"His nappy needs changing."

"Oh…" one could almost see Sirius' thoughts as they passed across his face. "Well, good luck with that ol' chum, must be off now…you see I just realised I have to… um… water my plants."

James wasn't amused. Okay maybe he was a little bit. "Padfoot, you kill all plants – you don't own any. So be a man and help me with Harry – unless you're afraid…"

"What! Sirius Black is afraid of nothing! I will… damn. Fine, I'll help you. Don't blame me if it goes wrong – I've never changed a nappy in my life… can't we just scourgify the one he has on now?"

"No! Are you insane!" here James paused, "Forget I said that, of course you are. But using magic on children is always a bad idea. There is a reason we wait 'til eleven before sending them off to Hogwarts."

"Oh. You mean we have to do it the Muggle way." The expression of distaste on Sirius" face, clearly told anyone what he thought of that idea.

"Okay…" James girded himself for the task ahead. Then, slowly unpinning the nappy he opened it. There were looks of absolute horror on the faces of the two men. While Harry just gurgled, green eyes observing them.

"I think… we should give Harry a bit of a bath." James managed to speak through his shock. He picked Harry up and tried to wipe off as much of the mess as possible using the dirty nappy. "Here," he said, handing Sirius the dirty one, "you can take care of this."

"Me?" Sirius hoarsely whispered still in shock. "Oh no, Prongs. I'll carry Harry, you take care of the mess."

Anyone watching closely would have noticed the slight spark in James" eyes. "Fine." And with that said, he proceeded to take out his wand and pointing it at the mess said: "_Evanesco_."

"Wha… oh, I get it – you don't need to not use magic since it's not on Harry anymore. You tricked me James, woe is me – betrayal by one of my oldest and dearest friends… Now I have to carry my rather smelly godson."

James snorted at his friend's antics, "Come on Padfoot, lets get Harry cleaned up and then we'll get back to you admitting that I am the better prankster."

"You are not! But you're right – let's get Bambi all nice an' clean."

The two men proceeded to the bathroom where Sirius sat Harry in the bath.

"We'll just… err… hose him down with the shower?" James asked, somewhat uncertain.

"Seems the best way to do it…" Sirius replied cocking his head and studying the bath and messy boy, who at that moment was frantically reaching for the rubber duck who sat by the taps.

"Paddy, I think we should remove our Auror's robes for this." James said with the air of someone who is desperately trying to pretend he knows what he's doing.

"Agreed." Sirius replied, first taking out various items from his robes. James followed suit with a rather large and pretty bottle being set down on the bath. "James… What exactly is that?" Sirius asked, pointing at the iridescent green bottle.

"Veritaserum." Sirius just stared.

"Why exactly do you have Veritaserum?"

"We were interrogating a number of suspects, Siri. Does it matter?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Well, on with it then."

James reached up and took hold of the showerhead, letting the water run for a moment away from Harry, he checked the temperature. "Come on Bambi, let's get you cleaned up for Daddy." Harry smiled and gurgled in response.

The two men and baby continued to have a great deal of fun, splashing water – in particular the two men in directions which usually coincided with the other adult, and so neither noticed the slow build up of water on the side, where the bar of soap which usually rested there, slid down into the bath, it's passage lubricated by the constant splashing of water. This wouldn't mean much, except a certain bottle happened to be next to said bar of soap.

The bottle fell – being Unbreakable it didn't smash – but instead the viridian flask captivated Harry; the two men didn't notice, being overly involved in their water fight. The two men continued to not notice as Harry grabbed the bottle in chubby baby hands and managed to gum off the top. It was entirely by accident that little Harry took his first sip of the potion; the look of surprise on his face was utterly adorable, but as he decided he liked the taste – his head went back and he drank the lot.

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AN: I do not have any kids and I have never changed a nappy, or washed a baby. If I have erred, well damn, here I thought it wasn't too bad – believable in the "Three Men and a Baby" kind of way. 


	2. Chapter 1: Life At the Dursleys

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in key events. May later contain slash, albeit much, much later.

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AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

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CHAPTER ONE: Life At the Dursleys

Life at Number Four, Privet Drive, was as regular as clockwork. Vernon and Petunia Dursley would both rise at seven o'clock. Petunia would get ready first, and then come downstairs to rouse her nephew, Harry Potter, from his cupboard underneath the stairs so he could make breakfast for herself, Vernon, and their son Dudley. By eight-fifteen, Vernon would be kissing his wife goodbye and leaving in his car. At eight-thirty, Petunia would walk the boys down to their school, wishing Dudley a good day, and firmly telling the boy, Harry, to not make any trouble.

You see, whilst Harry once had two loving parents and a number of pseudo aunts and uncles, the Dark Lord Voldemort had killed his parents and of those pseudo-aunts and uncles – two were insane, one was dead, and another imprisoned. So he was sent to live with his mother's sister Petunia and her family. The Dark Lord was missing, presumed dead, but that did not mean his followers weren't going to try to harm Harry.

Harry wasn't a particularly happy boy. His relatives didn't like him and his cousin Dudley was always trying to get him in trouble. It worked too, his uncle never believed him when he told the truth – in fact his uncle had punished him for it and tried to get him to say that he had caused whatever trouble it happened to be – but he couldn't. Harry couldn't get the words to pass from his throat. He could think a lie, but he could never voice it. It had troubled him during his younger years – as a toddler and then again during the first half of primary, but he soon found a way around it. He might only be able to speak the truth, but that didn't mean everyone could understand it. He had developed a larger vocabulary than normal for a child his age and had a way of looking at things sideways, so that what he said could be construed to have a number of meanings.

His uncle still punished him frequently and whilst Harry had attempted to explain things to a teacher; he soon discovered that though he told the truth, it was of no use. Even the one teacher that had believed him had seemingly forgotten about it completely - just a few days after taking it to the proper authorities. So Harry's life continued without getting any noticeable better, though Harry himself was changed by the experience. He no longer had any faith in adults; he wouldn't trust anyone but himself and most importantly perhaps, he recognised that if he wanted a better life, he'd have to make one for himself.

Regardless, this day, October 31st, was going to be a Hallowe'en for Harry to remember. Harry was eight years old, it was a Tuesday and he was returning to Privet Drive after school. It hadn't been a particularly hard day at school – everyone was still getting back into the swing of things after the half term and now the weekend.

Harry had just turned onto Magnolia Crescent when he became aware of the feeling of being watched – he casually strolled over to a low wall where he pretended to re-tie his shoelace, all the while trying to spot his observer. There! He had her – she appeared rather bedraggled – a homeless person perhaps? Why was she following him? Why had nobody else noticed her? Her hair was dark and long, hanging in tangled curls – she looked as though she might have once been pretty, but she was so gaunt that her skin was stretched taut over her bones.

The young boy continued on his way, until he quickly slipped down a side path – for cyclists and pedestrians only, which led to some small shops. Here he awaited his follower, whom he soon saw, looking around with a scowl on her face for having lost sight of Harry. As she passed by, Harry came up from behind.

'Why are you looking for me?' The young boy asked, deciding to get to the point. The older woman spun round suddenly, startled. She caught sight of Harry then and stared. 'Well?' Harry questioned. The older woman twisted her mouth as though she had tasted something particularly sour and scowling once again, proceeded to speak.

'What's a little lost boy like you doing out talking to strangers? Eh, baby Potter? I came a long way to see you – and here you are just out and about without even the sense to run.' Here, the woman pouted. 'I was looking forward to a chase as well…'

Harry was taken aback. She seemed utterly crazed, despite the purpose that lurked in those dark eyes. 'You didn't exactly answer my question, Ma'am; but…' he decided to be insulting, '…what is an apparent beggar woman doing stalking me? And how do you know my name?'

As Harry expected, why he expected it he wasn't certain, but the woman was outraged at being called a beggar. He didn't understand all of her ranting, 'BEGGAR WOMAN! I am a Black! Bellatrix of the most Noble and Ancient House of Black, wife to Rodolphus Lestrange and the most loyal Death Eater to the Dark Lord! I'm the first person to escape from Azkaban! HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A BEGGAR!'

If Harry had known better, he would have realised that the woman was being remarkably coherent and for once somewhat sane despite her shouting. Since he didn't know better, he was now firmly convinced that the woman was delusional, possibly even an escaped mental patient.

He turned away and left the woman still ranting before an audience of none. It had become a somewhat interesting day. He wondered if he should phone the police in regard to this… Bellatrix was it? It was a rather odd name. And so, still musing about how the woman knew his name Harry trudged back to Number Four, unknowing that it is always a bad idea to anger a Black.

--

Later, that very same night in fact, Harry woke up in his cupboard; you see the Cupboard Under the Stairs was where he slept and where he was put whenever the Dursleys wanted him out of the way – which was most of the time. He was to not move, stay quiet and pretend he didn't exist. Harry wasn't dumb – he knew that his relatives would be much happier if that were the case – his non-existence that is. For now, however, he wondered what had woken him – the lack of light creeping between the slats in the cupboard door from Outside (and sometimes he truly believed that outside of his cupboard deserved a capital letter) told him that it wasn't yet past dawn, much less time for him to get up – the lack of his aunt pounding on his cupboard door and yelling for him to get up and make breakfast, only confirmed this for him. So what had woken him?

He listened.

'Blast…damn…mug…could have…the house…no sign…here…all! …any…rooms! Why…Martin's…all…look…same!' the muttering faded in and out of his hearing.

If Harry had been able to hear more clearly, or the unknown stranger spoken just a tad louder, then it would have sounded a little more like this: 'Blasted, damned bloody Muggles! I could have sworn this was the house, but there's no sign he lives here at all! And he isn't in any of the bedrooms! Why in Merlin's name do all their houses have to look the same!'

What little he could hear was worrying, the woman, he decided after a moment's thought, was pacing back and forth and her and Martin, was it? Martin and the woman were planning on mugging someone or perhaps they had been going to mug someone and now they'd obviously expanded their repertoire to burgling houses. The woman was supposed to check every room according to Martin and didn't sound too pleased. He hoped she wouldn't bother with the cupboard – it was a cupboard after all. He tried to keep still and not make a sound but then It happened.

Dust. His nose. He felt an awful tickling sensation, his nose twitching as if – 'oh no' was his only thought – as if he were about to sneeze.

'AITCHOO!'

The pacing stopped. There was a pause before the footsteps and their cause came towards the cupboard door – the door was flung open so hard it rebounded and hit the woman, whom Harry was surprised to realise was the crazy beggar woman, Bellatrix.

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AN: I love Bella, I have to admit. And as for her seeming sanity/coherency during her rant – she hasn't been in Azkaban for as long… her time there is roughly halved I believe, so she's not as far gone. I imagine she would waver between periods of lucidity and get lost in bad memories at times… About updates - I will try for updating each week... Thanks for reviewing tishtosh, The PhantomHokage and suikofan! 


	3. Chapter 2: This is Not a Rational World

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in key events. May later contain slash, albeit much, much later.

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AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

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CHAPTER TWO: This is Not a Rational World

"Ow" came the moan from the woman - she was clutching her elbow, after being hit by the rebounding door. "Why does it always have to be the funny bone? And why by Morgana's tits, is it called a funny bone!"

Since Harry was fairly certain that these were in fact, rhetorical questions, he fought the urge to answer – it was a lot easier now, than even three months ago. After his eighth birthday he's found it was somewhat easier to fight the urge to answer any and all questions. He still didn't know why he was cursed with such an affliction – he's tried using the library, but all the books he could find on the mind agreed on one thing: It wasn't known how the brain worked; and so he decided it was getting easier through practice – his brain creating new neuronal pathways and eventually perhaps it would become automatic and he wouldn't have to consciously stop himself from answering a question – it would just… happen.

He focused his attention to the current situation.

"What are you doing here? If you're here to steal stuff – you'd best go in my aunt and uncle's room." was Harry's strained whisper.

She sneered. "I'm not a thief, I was looking for you," she paused, an uncertain look on her face for the barest of moments before scowling, "What are you doing in a cupboard?"

Harry tried not to answer, he really did, but he was tired and had one too many surprises in one day; he didn't fancy explaining to a stranger, a crazy stranger who just might believe him – that his relatives loathed him so much that they only allowed him a cupboard to sleep in.

--

He'd explained. She'd gotten angry. Enraged would be a more apt term to use he decided, the threats she came up with were somewhat… stomach churning; in fact he'd had to hold her back from marching up the stairs armed with a chopper from the kitchen. It was nice, in a strange way, to have someone get outraged on his behalf… even if it was an escapee from a mental ward.

So Harry asked the question that was practically burning into his brain. "Why do you care?" He couldn't understand why a crazy woman would want to defend him from his relatives, when nobody else seemed to care or listen to him.

She stared at him incredulously. "It… it's the principle of the thing. How dare Muggles think that they can treat a wizard with such disrespect! Keeping a wizard in a cupboard of all things! They deserve the Cruciatus…and I would take great pleasure in casting it upon them… Oh, don't look at me like that!" Harry was looking at her as if she was talking complete nonsense, which to his ear she was. "You're the Boy-who-Lived and yet you let them treat you so! Even if I don't like you, treating a powerful wizard in such a way is a disgrace! Perhaps… I don't suppose this endears you much to Muggles, does it?" There was a fanatical gleam in her eyes. "The Dark Lord would be most pleased upon his return if the one responsible for his downfall were to be working on his return…" she trailed off, with a dreamy look upon her face.

"A wizard. Right. Do you happen to talk to Father Christmas too? Or maybe the Easter Bunny?" After saying this, Harry had to wonder at the wisdom of insulting an obviously mad woman, but blamed it on his tiredness instead.

"I'm not mad!" she paused, "Well, maybe I am. But do you really mean to tell me you know nothing of your heritage? That's… that's ridiculous! How do you think your parents died?"

Harry scowled; the woman had no right, in his opinion, to bring his parents into this. "They died in a car crash. It's where I got this scar."

"Well, I don't know what a car crash is, but your parents were killed by the Dark Lord, and that scar you're pointing to, is a curse scar, a remnant of your encounter with Him."

"That… is the most ridiculous thing I've heard. Look. I don't know why you followed me or why you're telling me these things, but unless you can offer me proof, then please leave, before I scream and get the police involved." Harry's scepticism of all she had said was readily apparent, but even so… he felt as though she really believed what she was saying… she definitely had to be mad.

"I came here to kill you." Her voice was practically a low growl; obviously she was somewhat miffed at being disbelieved. "And to see if you knew anything about what had happened to the Dark Lord, but it's apparent that you don't know anything. I'm not surprised you don't remember, you were only a baby at the time, but I would have thought whoever left you here would have told you something… Or perhaps they want you to suffer until you go to Hogwarts, you'd be grateful no doubt to whomever came for you…" the look on the Bellatrix face told Harry she was still thinking about possible reasons.

"So you can't offer me any proof of witchcraft, or magic or whatever you call it." Harry stated. "Please just leave." His request was said tiredly, as he yawned midway through.

"Proof? I can't do magic here, the Ministry will come and I'll be sent back to Azkaban! Or maybe they'll just think it's you… hmm… what wandless spells can I do? Can't be too hard, Azkaban…" here she shuddered, before her face brightened, "Haven't you ever done something unexplainable? Some kind of accidental magic, that can't be explained rationally?" her questions were asked eagerly.

Harry was nonplussed. Anything strange? Accidental magic? "I can't lie." Whoops, the cat was out of the bag, he should be paying better attention.

"Can't lie? That isn't magical, well… maybe if you'd been given Veritaserum, but who would be dosing you with it here? And to dose a child, who could know what the effects would be? No. Nothing else? Like changing the colour of something, or…" she thought back, happy memories she couldn't touch still, "repelling someone in a fight, quickened healing, anything like that?"

"Veritaserum? Well… I heal quickly, and sometimes Uncle Vernon has trouble grabbing me. But that doesn't prove the existence of magic." Although it was surprising how his uncle, on occasion had trouble grabbing hold of him, as if he were greased in oil or something – too slippery to hold on to, those incidents usually led to time in the cupboard without meals, so it was better to let himself be caught and punished than to lose even more meals.

The woman sighed. "Okay, fine. Watch this. _Lumos._" As she said the last word, a ball of light emerged from her fingertips. Harry gasped in wonder.

"H…How? That's incredible! You're really doing it! And the rest of what you said is true?" Harry's mind was in an upset - his worldviews had been shattered. Magic existed. Magic was real. And this woman, Bellatrix, he reminded himself, was capable of using it. "Teach me, please." He tempered the command with 'please', despite the insistent feeling he had - that he wanted, no needed to learn as much as possible about this… Magic.

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AN: Nice stopping point? Anyway thanks to Lucillia, The PhantomHokage, tishtosh, e and kimmetj for reviewing. 


	4. Chapter 3:My Best Friend, the Psychopath

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in key events. May later contain slash, albeit much, much later.

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AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

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CHAPTER THREE: My Best Friend, the Psychopath

Unfortunately as Bellatrix soon explained – it was unwise to use magic on a child, studies having proven it could lead to said child becoming a Squib. A Squib, Harry learnt was a person born to magical parents but had no magic themselves. The restrictions against magic being used on children also extended to the children practicing magic. Accidental magic was a different matter – it only occurred in times of stress, and was truly more of a survival trait than anything else. Over-use could lead to the child losing the ability to tap into their magic, but in cases where accidental magic was warranted – immediate survival of the witch or wizard took higher priority than the ability to cast spells later in life.

This didn't stop Harry from wanting to know all the theory behind the magic, and he promised to not use it until he was old enough. This said, he was quick to realise that even though Bellatrix was a witch, and magic did exist, she wasn't entirely sane. Further conversations would lead him to realise it was due to her imprisonment in Azkaban. She wavered between bouts of lucidity and complete insanity. He was just lucky to have met her during her more lucid periods. The first time he'd been seen her in the grip of her madness, he'd been… well… horrified.

She'd been at the abandoned council flat, where she was staying. It was dark, dank and so filthy that Harry had been physically repulsed the first time he entered. Littered with empty beer cans and cigarette butts, he wasn't happy about her staying there – he wouldn't have been happy with anyone staying there.

Her madness though, had been far more worrying than any thoughts of hygiene. The way she'd screamed, arching her back and writhing across the floor – scratching at her skin as if trying to flee from it. Then she stopped, collapsed – the silence eerie after her screams, until he became aware of her whispering chant – getting louder and faster as she rocked back and forth. "Master, please forgive me, don't want to, didn't mean to, had to, yes had to, no, no, no. NO!" Her further mumbles had been about a baby, apologising to the baby for hurting the parents.

Even these fits didn't bother him as much as the other times. The times when she'd speak in a mocking baby voice and say such things as 'Aww, do you miss your parents baby Potter? But you should know that they were vewy foolish to think they could defy the Dark Lord, and he'll be back and he's going to kill you.' The singsong way she said the words and the utter belief he saw in her eyes as she said them, truly scared him. But she was his first introduction to magic, and she was the first to want to defend him; even if she was crazy and occasionally talked about him dying.

Bellatrix, Harry had decided, was his friend, or at least as close to a friend as he would get, with the Dursleys spreading lies about him and Dudley threatening any child who even entertained the notion of playing with him. Bellatrix was his friend, his psychopathic, insane, magical friend.

As the days passed, Harry slipped into a routine; he would go to school and then afterwards meet Bellatrix in small alleyway and they would chat, occasionally it would result in him trying to hold her back as she described some of the hexes and curses she wanted to use on Dudley's gang, or the Dursleys. Occasionally she wouldn't turn up – in which case Harry would sneak over to the flat and comfort her through the aftermath of her convulsions, but the weeks passed and Bellatrix was slowly experiencing fewer relapses and was gaining a firmer grip on reality. This, Harry mused, was a good thing, but he couldn't help but wince at what she'd say or try to do once she was her former self. He'd gathered that she didn't like Muggles, or non-magical people. She was torn over how to feel about him, since he'd somehow brought down her Lord, but also wanted to protect a fellow wizard against the Muggles and yet he wasn't a Pureblood, but she thought he must be powerful and he could help get her Lord back. Frankly he would be happy if he had some guarantee that she wouldn't just grab some large knives and start on Dursley-torture.

He needn't have worried though; Bellatrix had similar thoughts in her lucid periods. She knew rationally, that the Dark Lord was dead. It was something to do with the Potter boy, Harry. Yet, the mere idea was ridiculous – how did a baby defeat the Dark Lord? Unless the baby were really powerful, yet Harry didn't seem that exceptional, other than those striking green eyes and his seeming lack of ability to tell a lie. The last thing was useful in her dealings with him, but she did notice how he was learning to deflect questions, and answering them cryptically, or in ways that answered the question yet didn't tell her what she wanted to know. It was pure Slytherin and left her feeling oddly proud. This pride in him had her confused and worried. She was beginning to feel for the boy, and previously she'd only cared for her sisters, and one of her cousins – Sirius Black. Her cousin and one of her sisters had abandoned the Dark side, upon which they'd been raised – although she had doubts about her cousin, since he'd joined her in Azkaban – as a traitor to the Potters. She couldn't have children – she knew this, one too many Dark Curses during the war; and now she was concerned that she was beginning to feel maternal over a brat that wasn't hers and would probably hate her once he learnt more about both his history and hers.

--

Their worries soon came to end. Christmas was approaching and it brought a few problems as well. The constant cold weather combined with the wet left Bellatrix with an awful cold. Her sleeping in the ratty old flat, meant she was rarely warm, despite Harry's efforts in getting her a couple of old blankets. It was only because she was a powerful witch that she'd held of illness for so long, but Azkaban had taken it's toll and her magic was weakened – combined with the poor food and her lack of adequate shelter – she was getting very ill.

Harry had taken to visiting as often as he could and bringing as much food and water as he could take without it being missed. Water wasn't a problem, but the weight of carrying a few litres made it harder for him to dodge Dudley's gang and he'd been caught a couple of times, resulting in numerous bruises.

"Bella? Bella, are you okay?" Harry called out as he entered the flat. Bellatrix, looked up from where she lay swaddled in blankets, smiling weakly and as she opened her mouth to reply – burst into a sudden fit of coughs. Harry was by her side in seconds, scrambling for her glass of water, he helped her sit and pressed the glass to her lips. Her lips were flecked with blood, which alarmed him.

"How long have you been coughing up blood?" his question was frantic, emerald eyes on fire.

Another weak smile as she replied, "Since last night I think. Damned Ministry, if I had my wand, or a potion…but it doesn't matter, at least I will have died free – away from Azkaban." The look of outrage on Harry's face stopped her from continuing.

"Die! You aren't going to die. You are going to get better and continue to tell me stories about Hogwarts and magic."

"Why do you care?" She hadn't meant to say that, but she figured it didn't matter much since she was dying, no one would have to know about her weakness in caring.

Harry was flabbergasted. Why did he care? She was his friend. His best friend, granted she was his only friend, but he doubted he could find a friend as good as her – at least for as long as he stayed at the Dursleys. He told her so. He expected derision or scepticism, he certainly didn't expect her to burst into sobs and wrap in a smothering hug.

"I care about you too! The way you've learnt to deflect questions without lying – it's so Slytherin and I'm so proud of you!"

That was it. Bellatrix had obviously become delirious; because there was no other way she would be saying such things. She was very ill, and Harry knew only one way to possibly help her. It was risky though, terribly so. Having made up his mind, he shut his eyes, still clinging to her skinny form as tight as he could, wishing desperately that she would get better – get better now. The words seemed to reverberate in his mind as he slowly sunk into unconsciousness. Bellatrix soon followed suit, but it was a healing sleep this time, one not filled with painful memories and interspersed with wracking coughs. They slept, the small boy embraced in the woman's arms, peaceful, deep, until it came time to wake.

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AN: So… not much conversation here, and I apologise, but I wanted to set the scene for how they could get along. Bellatrix is torn and maybe she's still insane with wanting to be nice to Harry… who knows? Will Harry still be a wizard? Some pretty powerful 'accidental' magic there I guess… but I figure it's powered by emotion, and love would do it… The coughing up of blood? Pneumonia. Thanks to all reviewers! May be a slightly more than week before the next update...Sorry.  



	5. Chapter 4: Wherefore and Why

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in key events. May later contain slash, albeit much, much later.

* * *

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

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CHAPTER FOUR: Wherefore and Why

In the aftermath of that Christmas season, Bella had soundly scolded him, with good reason - he'd repeatedly told her that - no, he didn't want to become a Squib; and no, he didn't enjoy exhausting himself into unconsciousness. Harry had eventually told her that he'd considered the risk worth taking and he'd rather risk his magic in healing her than let her die, which had left her speechless and the topic no longer came up. Except she remained edgy and anxious until he'd pointed out that he still couldn't lie and that was undoubtedly something that tied in with his magic.

Why he couldn't lie was another matter entirely, and the only conclusion Bella had come up with was completely implausible in her view. She told him of a potion, Veritaserum – from the Latin 'veritas' meaning truth, a potion that would compel the drinker to speak only the truth, but then she'd added that it was not only a restricted potion, but also forbidden to use on those underage. Answering his questions on Veritaserum soon led to further questions on the magical world, and with Bella's increasingly stable mental state – she opted for devising more structured lessons.

Becoming a wizard, Harry mused, was hard. Bella insisted he learn Latin, for it's usefulness in spells, since the majority of European spells were Latin based. In addition to that however, she insisted on French – saying all Purebloods spoke at least one other language, such as the Blacks, which was her family and also the Malfoys which both had French roots, and also etiquette. Etiquette, meaning he had to know the correct behaviour for addressing persons of differing rank, for various social occasions, for duels – which had excited him, until he learnt the practice had largely fallen into disuse and was forbidden at Hogwarts – unless directed in class.

"Again Harry." She was a hard taskmaster. She'd had him practice posture and bowing. His back and shoulders ached and as he contorted himself once more she nodded in satisfaction and he slumped with a sigh of relief.

"I still don't see why I have to know all this. Most of the other children won't know it."

She sighed. He hated it when she seemed disappointed in him.

"No one will be able to fault you for proper manners or knowing the correct mode of address. Most of the other children may not have any knowledge of the older traditions, but you are not other children – the better off you can present yourself, the more allies you'll be able to gather and you'll need as many as possible. This world is dangerous; there will be many witches and wizards out to harm you. Right, mais maintenant nous allons parler en français, oui?"

"Oui," Harry replied tiredly. Another language was interesting, but Bella all but beat it into him. Insisting on verb conjugations, memorisation of lists of vocabulary and that most of their conversations were held in French. It wasn't as hard as Latin thankfully, but he didn't have to learn to converse in Latin. Even so, he couldn't help but wish the Black family motto was in English unlike the French _'__Toujours pur'_ – always pure.

--

Magical theory was boring and interesting by turns, History on the other hand was fraught with hidden pitfalls – if only because they discussed the most recent war in the magical world – that of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Bellatrix had been a Death Eater; or rather she still was, despite the disappearance of the Dark Lord. Harry's parents however, were on the opposing side. Harry wasn't sure what to think about either side, they both had their flaws, but he was grateful nonetheless for Bella's attempts to describe the war objectively. He was also grateful, though he didn't say it, for her forcing him to memorise the names of all the Death Eater families or those with ties to the Dark Lord – he'd asked her why he needed to know them and her response had been frightening.

"A great many people were not pleased when the Dark Lord fell and they blame you, I may be hard on you now to learn these names, but you must take caution when among these people! They have killed, and tortured and done it with smiles on their faces!"

Which had led to a discussion on why people could do such a thing. Bella's explanation was fairly straightforward; she said three words: 'Power', and 'Dark Magic.'

She continued to explain, "There are three accepted definitions of Dark Magic, one is the one that will get people in trouble – Dark Magic is any and all Magic forbidden by the Ministry of Magic, the second is any Magic used to harm – which is a school of thought that is only followed in some of the covens; and the last is the most accurate – Dark Magic is any and all magic which is powered in some way by the use of emotion."

Here she held up a hand to silence Harry's questions. "Dark Magic accumulates over time, it leads to a sort of madness. A Dark Magic user becomes irrational and angry, and since Dark Magic is addictive, a user will continue to practice Dark Magic and will ignore what is needed in order to recover." She gave Harry a sharp look, "I ended up in Azkaban and while the presence of Dementors wasn't great, I had the addition of suffering Dark Magic withdrawal, but by now I'm not overdosed anymore. So believe me when I speak of this."

Harry still had questions though, "How do you know when you've used too much?"

Bella looked at him, the same look she always gave whenever he did something to surprise her. "Well, you don't need to worry about that just yet, seeing as it will be a while yet before you can go about casting spells. But it's a good question. I don't know. At the time I never felt like I was using too much, but then it ended up using me and some of the things I did, went beyond the necessities of war."

Harry looked pensive then, "But what if I overdose by accident?"

She laughed. He glared at her, but that only seemed to make her laugh the harder. "Harry, you can't go Dark by accident! You would have to be using something that uses a lot of emotion in casting like… the Unforgivables, and you're hardly to not notice something like that!"

"So there aren't any other spells I have to be careful with?"

That sobered her up quickly, "You should be careful with all spells. Magic may be our birthright and heritage, but it isn't for foolish ends. I can't think of any other Dark spells, but… well, there's the Patronus Charm, but most adult wizards can't cast it so I doubt you're in trouble there." She frowned, "It's a good charm to learn though – repels Dementors."

"Oh." Harry felt a bit guilty for her losing her lighter mood. A thought struck him and he paled.

"What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking that I can't wait to go to Hogwarts, but then I wondered what would happen to you… What will happen Bella? I can't take you with me! And what if someone asks me about you! I can't lie! What mmph!"

Bella clapped a hand to his mouth, silencing the swiftly panicking boy. "Calm down, brat. We have a couple of years to plan yet. In the meantime perhaps you could put that brain of yours to better use in learning enough to keep you alive through your first week in the Wizarding world."

He glared at her, but calmed anyway – enough that she released her hold on him. "Maybe you should teach me a way to get out of holds like that!" He wasn't serious, she was the only person who touched him in any way approaching affection, and it was growing on him. He recognised the look in her eyes though she was considering his words.

"Good idea, but I'm not really familiar with any fighting forms. You'll have to look for someone who gives lessons."

Harry gaped at her, before swiftly shutting his mouth and remarking "And where exactly would I get the money to pay for these lessons? Even if I did get money somehow it would be far better to use it to pay for some more decent meals for us than anything else! I already scrounge what I can from the Dursleys!"

She looked apologetic. "I'm hoping to get a job or something soon. And the Christmas meal at the shelter was nice."

"I don't mean… oh, you know what I mean. The people there were quite funny though, they didn't know what to make of you – still don't."

Bella couldn't keep the smirk from her face, "Yes, I don't think they quite know what to think now that they've seen us speaking French."

* * *

AN: What Bella says, for those who don't speak French is 'but now we will speak in French, yes?' (Or at least it should be… I haven't studied French in a long while…Latin either…). And forgive the long-windedness of the bits on Dark Magic… Thanks to all those who reviewed – Zaivon, e, Aria DeLoncray, TheSmallestGhost, Seku238, tishtosh, Anders1 and ThePhantomHokage 


	6. Chapter 5: Plans

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in key events.

* * *

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE: Plans

As the day dawned, few people were up and about. One of these people however, was currently putting the last few touches on a small box. It was a small box, wrapped in cream paper decorated with brightly coloured balloons. A thin strip of gold ribbon was tied around it, ends curled with a sharp knife that the user wielded with ease. It was early, she knew, too early to give it to him, but that didn't mean she couldn't let the anticipation build up as Harry counted down the days 'til his birthday. A wicked grin crossed her face, as she considered his reaction - possibly a bit of pouting, then amusement as he called a sadistic fiend intent on torturing him with the most inescapable thing that could possess him – curiosity. She couldn't withhold the laugh, though she was able to make sure it wasn't too loud. No need to let her neighbours think she was mad.

She idly watched her clock ticking, considering the past few years: She'd met Harry, he'd healed her of her time in Azkaban and she was no longer suffering from an overdose of Dark magic. She was living in the Muggle world, as Isabella Black – close to her true name, but not so close that the Wizarding world would suspect anything if they came across her name. They probably wouldn't suspect anything even if they came across her – she'd dyed her hair. It was now a rich red-brown, closer to Andy's hair colour than anything else, giving her a nice reminder, and went a good ways to changing her appearance.

She was passing herself off as a part-Spanish, part-English woman. She was living in a well-kept council flat, a marked change from the previous one where she'd been squatting. She'd kept the bills paid through tutoring in piano and French for the first few years. Now she had a job at a local sixth form college teaching A-level French and at Harry's insistence had volunteered at the Shelter, which had helped her with all the various forms to apply for a place to live and in finding work. Before she'd never grasped the complexities of Muggle society, but there was so much needed – a place to address correspondence, a national insurance number… then there were the problems with her name.

She'd ended up being aided by Constable Peter Phillips, with explanations that she was fearful of using the name Bellatrix, because of an arranged marriage to a cruel man, and that both the families were powerful and she didn't want to be found – all true, and he'd somehow organised all her paperwork – with help from others in his department. The laws were changing on domestic violence, making legal protection easier to get, but since they couldn't do a thing to aid her, it was all rather moot. It had, however, opened her eyes to how much more adaptive the Muggles were. They saw something wasn't quite right, they tried to change it – and they were far fairer than in the Wizarding world, where amendments to laws had to first pass through a minimum number of four Department Heads, and the Minister of Magic, before going before the Wizengamot – which meant persons like her brother-in-law were swift to stop any piece of legislative action he didn't approve of.

In all Isabella Black, was doing rather well for herself, and soon it would be time to pick up Harry. After all Miss Black was a rather excellent babysitter for the young ruffian, and since old Mrs Figg had broken her leg… well Miss Black was delighted to baby-sit the young boy in her place – she was planning on re-arranging some of her furniture and would be happy to have someone to help – something that Mrs Dursley had been pleased to hear. After all Bella still knew how to manipulate people.

It was time. Bella swiftly gathered her handbag, a light summer jacket and was about to leave the flat, when the phone rang.

"Hello?" She really couldn't think who might be calling her.

"Hello. Miss Black? It's Petunia Dursley calling."

A look of consternation crossed Bella's face, was that obnoxious excuse for a Muggle going to stop Harry from staying with her for the day? She cleared her throat and spoke, "Yes, is something wrong with my picking Harry up?"

"Oh, no. Nothing is wrong. We just thought it'd be better if Vernon dropped the boy round now. That way you don't have to worry about picking him up… you can of course just send him back in the evening on the bus – he's old enough now."

"Of course, that's very thoughtful of you and your husband." She was wincing internally at her own obsequious tone, whilst also thinking rather darkly – of course they wanted to drop Harry round – that way he wouldn't be around for their precious son's birthday, but at least Harry would be with her for the day.

"Yes, well – I'm glad I managed to catch you before you left. I must be off now – Goodbye!"

"Bye." Bella muttered as she heard the dull sound of the dial tone; she really could see no resemblance to Harry's mother in Petunia at all. Harry would be here soon though, so replacing her things, she settled down to wait.

Bzzt! It was the cursed doorbell, which frankly reminded Bella of the sound of a Glumbumble once set aflame (courtesy of her cousin Sirius, along with the drapes in their study). A quick check through the peephole, confirmed it was Harry and his uncle, and placing her best 'cheery' smile on her face – she opened the door.

"Mr Dursley! And Harry. It was very nice of you to drop him round, Mr Dursley, it wouldn't have been much trouble to collect him." She never missed her wand more than in the presence of Vernon Dursley – overweight, and physically repulsive, he never missed the chance to rake his eyes over her form – leaving her fuming internally, whilst trying to remain calm outside in order to continue seeing Harry.

The older man merely grunted in response, before adding, "Here's your wages for taking him for the day." Handing over the requisite amount of cash, he continued, "I must be off now. It's good of you to do this on such short notice Miss Black." Then turning to Harry he remarked, "You'd best behave boy, and no funny business for Miss Black. Understood?" Vernon Dursley didn't wait for a response before nodding a sharp goodbye to Bella and leaving.

"Well. Thank Merlin that man is gone. How you manage to refrain from accidental magic around him is beyond me."

Harry peered up at her with a grin, "Nice to see you too, Bella. I thought you were supposed to be my teacher on etiquette."

"Oh, shut up brat. What are we doing today? I'd thought we should discuss what to do when you get your Hogwarts letter."

"Really? When do you think it will arrive?" The enthusiasm in his voice was hard to miss.

"Soon."

Harry glared at her for her one word answer.

Bella sighed, "This really isn't my strong point. I'm better at thinking on my feet, not planning out what to do. And you're pretty much the same…"

"I thought Slytherins were supposed to be cunning and able to manipulate those around them…"

"Or they can be ambitious and driven – like myself… and you, for that matter…and we're cunning and manipulative… we're just not… particularly good at strategic thinking…" Bella stumbled through her argument, it was all true after all, and brought up a good point. "You must not get sorted into Slytherin."

"Why not? Aside from the whole Death Eaters' children out for revenge…" Harry trailed off for a moment - thinking, "and the Wizarding world thinking their saviour has become Dark, or worse that I stopped the Dark Lord through being an even greater Dark wizard… okay, so try not to go into Slytherin. But what happens when I get my letter?"

"Apart from the 'Do not let the Dursleys get their hands on it'?" She didn't wait for a response, "You reply, asking if this is real, and send it back with an owl. Hopefully they send someone to check up on you… and then they'll take you shopping to get your school supplies. First to Gringotts for money, then the supplies and then they'll probably dump you back here. You just have to fool whoever they send into thinking you're a nice lad with no knowledge of the Wizarding world."

Here she was interrupted with a mutter of, "I am a nice lad."

"Anyway," she continued, ignoring Harry's subsequent pout, "After you're back, I'll try and remove the tracking from your wand – we'll catch the Knight Bus, and do some real shopping – a wand for myself from Knockturn, a second wand for you, books on some of the more obscure arts – your Parseltongue for instance… more on magical theory – see if we can figure out how you managed to speak it. And even books on," here she winced, "Occlumency and Legilimency – the mind arts, which Snape and Dumbledore practice. We'll need to learn enough of it to block them from our minds."

"Our minds? Will you be coming to Hogwarts with me? Isn't that dangerous!" Harry had been busy jotting down notes as Bella spoke, but the last thing she had said had shocked him into stillness.

"No, I won't be going to Hogwarts. It would be nice to stay close by… but I think… I should be hunting for the Dark Lord." Left unsaid was what she'd do if she found him. "Occlumency and Legilimency will be useful to know at any rate… And we must pick up information on how to become an Animagus."

"That seems like a lot of stuff, Bella. Are we even going to have time? I mean we'll have August and not much more, since term starts on the first of September."

"Better to have the information at hand. Besides since my escape I've wanted to become an Animagus – though I don't think I'll be a bird."

"Huh?" Harry gave her a puzzled look, whilst motioning for Bella to elaborate.

"I escaped after Cissa smuggled me a potion. One time use only, a variant of the Polyjuice potion, which I've mentioned to you before – only it turns the user into an animal. I became some kind of bird of prey, and simply flew out of the prison. Cissa left a substitute in my place to stop anyone coming after me. Thankfully the effects of the Dementors are greatly reduced when in animal form – I think because their thought processes are different than that of humans. Anyway, having an unknown Animagus form could be very useful."

Harry nodded solemnly in agreement. It was probably one of their greatest joint fears – if Bella were found – she'd be put back in Azkaban; so having an escape route, no matter how odd would do wonders in easing it.

Plans set; they started on their other plans for the day – making lunch, Bella teasing Harry with his wrapped present, testing Harry's knowledge of spells and his ability to dodge questions. Such as, "Have you ever seen Bellatrix Lestrange?" to which he calmly replied "No." before winking at her, and she realised her flaw in questioning.

"Have you ever met a Death Eater?" was also an easy question for him to dodge, the answer "I don't think so," sufficed. Leading to him explaining he had considered they were asking if he'd met anyone who ate Death, which to his mind wasn't possible. They whiled away the afternoon and before long it was time for Harry to return.

Walking him to the start of Privet Drive, Bella wished Harry a good night, and began the walk back to the bus stop.

* * *

AN: Okay… this is mainly a filler chapter…the next should be coming fairly soon…. Other news - since a lot of people seem to be intensely against slash and I'm not all that certain about writing it… It will not happen. In all honesty – the closest I suspect this will get to a pairing is flirtatious comments… I will warn that I intend him to get kissed at least once. Although knowing my inability to write 'love' scenes – said kiss might just be a) one of Mrs Weasley's motherly ones, b) a platonic one from Hermione/Luna/Other female character, c) Myrtle (cause we all know she has a large crush on Harry), or d) Padfoot slobbering all over the poor boy (as Padfoot…I really don't mean that in any smutty way)… Anyway thanks to all those who reviewed! MagicallyInclined, Darklight, Willow-Bee the Cat, Rob, PoisedDesecration, TheSmallestGhost, Akari.no.Aizou, ShyOrangette, ZanyMuggle, Mercsenary, Anders1, IP82, C. Rose, ranma hibiki, Exiled Rain, sadfru, Der Joker, zafaran, evansentranced, Zephyrl and illachi. If I missed replying to you and answering any questions – then apologies! Also apologies for taking so long to update… 


	7. Chapter 6: The Letter

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in key events.

* * *

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

* * *

CHAPTER SIX: The Letter

Summer holidays had arrived, and Harry was beginning to get impatient about the arrival of his letter. His aunt and uncle had already told him he would be sent to Stonewall High next year, whilst his cousin Dudley would be attending his father's former school, Smeltings. Harry had been tempted to tell them he intended to go to his own father's former school – but refrained, not wanting to give his uncle reason to lock him in his cupboard. Instead he'd started the habit of checking for mail as he got up in the morning to cook breakfast for his relatives.

Despite putting their heads together on several occasions – neither Bella nor himself had managed to come up with a fool-proof plan of getting him away from the Dursleys – permanently; or even in lieu of that, a plan to improve their treatment of him. At least, they hadn't come up with a plan that didn't require the extensive use of magic… No, so the two had resigned themselves to coming up with something once in the wizarding world – there were old laws that were still in effect according to Bella, though they would have to be careful that Harry didn't end up under the guardianship of someone who might have a mind to harm or otherwise manipulate him to their own ends.

The letter had finally arrived. Harry had found in amongst the pile of mail that came through the letterbox – to his surprise and annoyance. Bella had told him about the use of owls for post – was this an attempt to reach out to his relatives, to be Muggle-friendly? Despite his relatives not being the slightest bit wizard-friendly…or maybe he was reading too much into this.

When he later related his thoughts to Bella on the subject, she'd taken one long wide-eyed look at him before choking on her laughter, to which he concluded that he was acting a bit paranoid.

"Harry, I know I said it was better to run the risk of being paranoid than being caught out… but there are some things that are a tad too paranoid. Now how about you open your letter?"

Harry eagerly tore open the thick creamy envelope, not before pointing out a line of the address – 'The Cupboard under the Stairs', to which a response of 'I believe the letters are addressed by spell rather than by hand' prompting a slight blush as Harry considered the time it would otherwise take to address the letters of all the students who attended Hogwarts.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than the 31st July._

_Your sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

Deputy Headmistress

"So… where do I get an owl to reply with?"

Bella laughed, before explaining that there was probably a rather disgruntled owl waiting around the Dursleys' home for a reply.

At any rate it was a week later, from when Harry had sent his reply – that he received a visitor.

BOOM!

Whoever was knocking at the front door certainly didn't seem aware of their strength and at any rate, Harry's uncle seemed less than pleased when he got up from the remains of breakfast and strode angrily towards the door.

"Yes?" Vernon's voice trailed off to a squeal of sorts as he took in the sheer size of the man before him. The stranger stood a good few feet above Harry's uncle, and Harry couldn't help but agree with the vague notion of 'Giant'.

"Good mornin', here to pick up Harry fer his school shoppin'."

Vernon couldn't get a word out as his face slowly began to turn a few shades redder than normal.

"Y-You!" He managed to gasp, "He's not going to be going to one your funny schools. He's going to Stonewall High." Vernon spat out the word 'funny' as if it were a curse.

The large stranger drew himself up and gripping his umbrella in hand, which was pink – a distant part of Harry's mind noticed, said in a rather loud voice, "Now look here, Harry's been down on tha' list since he was born! Harry's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled–'

'I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!' yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. The giant man seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head. 'NEVER –' he thundered, '– INSULT – ALBUS – DUMBLEDORE – IN – FRONT – OF – ME!'

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Vernon – who let out a squeal and fell backwards through the doorway. Vernon glared up at the man, opening his mouth to let loose some rather aggressive language – only to have an appalled look upon his face when it became apparent that the only sounds he could make were squeals and oinking noises like a pig.

Harry couldn't help the startled gasp that left his lips, drawing the large man's attention to himself.

"Ah, hello Harry. Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes. Sorry 'bout this mess, but we'd best be on our way, 'fore the crowds start up in Diagon."

Harry frowned; this first meeting with someone from Hogwarts wasn't what he's expected. "Um. Sorry, but who are you? And where or what is Diagon?"

The giant of a man looked embarrassed as he belatedly introduced himself, "Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Jus' call me Hagrid everyone does. Diagon Alley is where yeh can buy yer school supplies – where most folks have their shops. Course there's also Hogsmeade, but yeh won't have permission to visit 'til yer third year."

The green eyed boy looked at Hagrid critically, before giving a single nod. "I expect you can tell me more about Hogwarts and the magical world on the way. The Dursleys never admitted that magic existed to me. The Hogwart's letter was quite a surprise." Inwardly Harry was nervous, a fluttering in his stomach, he was having to imply certain things whilst avoiding telling the truth of things – such as he had been studying the magical world and memorising spell names for a while. This would be his first test – his first meeting with the magical world and someone who worked at the place he would be spending most of the next seven years.

"Thank God that's over." Harry was currently collapsed across the sofa in Bella's living room.

She raised a single elegant brow, "That bad was it?"

He offered her a glare as he sat up to tell her about his trip. "It was awful, when we got to the Leaky Cauldron I was mobbed as everyone wanted to shake hands with the 'Boy-Who-Lived'" there was a visible sneer on his face as he spoke the title, "Did you know I have piles of gold in my vault? I don't suppose we could just take the money…"

He was interrupted by Bella's shaking of her head and seeing he wasn't about to just drop the matter, she explained – "The vault you were taken to was undoubtedly your Trust Vault, there are limits on the amount you can withdraw and records of your withdrawals are made and sent to your magical guardian. Anyway - continue with your story."

"Fine…um…in Madam Malkins I met a Muggleborn – who seemed a bit of a snob – Finch-Fletchley I think his name was. The Apothecary stunk. Oh! Hagrid bought me an owl as an early birthday present – a snowy; I've named her Hedwig. I think that's about it… the Dursleys have her locked in her cage, but they've allowed me to have Dudley's second bedroom now – all my stuff's in there…" Harry ignored Bella's worsening glare, as he jumped up to get a glass of water.

"Haaa-rrreee." She said in a sing-song, before her tone hardened, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Forgetting something? Me?" Harry responded – his innocent act not convincing to either of them. "Well… apparently my wand is brother to the Dark Lord's…" he trailed off as he took in Bella's pale face.

"Brother wands?" she managed to get out.

He nodded, suddenly wary.

"This... this is amazing! We… wow." She shook off her shock, "So where is it?"

Harry produced his wand from up his sleeve, offering it grip-first to the eager witch. "Holly and Phoenix feather – 11 inches."

"Right. Up to more shopping?" she said with a grin.

Harry moaned. "You sadist. Shopping is evil."

Her grin turned feral, "In this case you'll be right. Come on, we'll use the cloaks I bought at Hallowe'en – they'll pass until we're outside the Leaky Cauldron and a bit of stray magic there won't be noticed…I hope you brought some Galleons with you.

They took the Knight Bus to Diagon, which meant it left them off outside the Cauldron. Then taking hold of Harry's wand – Bella proceeded to transfigure and charm their cloaks, to ensure that the hoods stayed up and their faces couldn't be seen. A series of additional charms hid gender, scent and acted to change their voices.

"Remember – don't address me by name and if you think everything is going terribly wrong and need to warn me – say our code phrase… and if things do go bad, just try and get the hell out of Knockturn and head for Gringotts or the Cauldron."

"I know already B-B." He glared at her from behind the shadows hiding his face, "You did that on purpose – trying to catch me out."

She shrugged. "At least now I know you'll be watching yourself."

With that, the two made their way into the Leaky Cauldron, as it was early evening the bar was rapidly becoming increasingly crowded, but the sight of the two hooded, dark cloaked beings had a path opening up before them.

Soon enough they made it out of the Cauldron and into the main street – Diagon Alley. Taking a firm hold of Harry, Bella made her way to the entrance to Knockturn Alley.

She sighed, "Finally some decent shopping."

* * *

AN: Sorry for the late chapter when I promised it earlier… RL has been a rather evil sadist in regards to myself lately…apologies… um…if I continued with his journey to Diagon, I may as well direct you to read that section in JKR's book.. The Hogwarts letter is taken from PS – but from an ebook, so it might not be exactly the same… And some of Hagrid's speech you may recognise as well… no pig's tail for Dudley I'm afraid… everything in Diagon Alley is the same as the first time – though Harry didn't meet Draco in Madam Malkins or Quirrel, no mysterious package either… Thanks to all those who reviewed – Zephyrl, Alwaysariyana, ZwngDragon, Lady AeTeRa, SailorHecate, ShyOrangette, Illachi, Heather, TheSmallestGhost, Darklight. 

The first Omake I blame on suggestions I've heard of Harry/Bella. And ranma hibiki (waves) for suggesting I write Omakes in the first place…(headdesk) I have no idea what I am doing… I have the flu… (hides head under bedcovers)... asterisks don't work?? O.o

Omake:

Author: Then taking hold of Harry's wand – Bella proceeded to turn it towards herself and Harry (seriously this is what I first wrote before going 'erk' or possibly 'oro?' (been introduced to Rurouni Kenshin (blush) He's so pretty!))

Harry: Hey! That's gonna hurt!

Bella: flashbacking to Death Eater days Pain can act as an aphrodisiac you know…

Harry: eyes wide Um, Bella I really didn't need to hear that.

Author: How does Harry know what an aphrodisiac is? He's only ten!

Bella begins to disrobe

Harry: AHH!!! My eyes! DAMN YOU SILVER SHE'S LIKE MY MOTHER!

Bella comes back to herself

Bella: Er. What just happened?

Harry: O.o

Omake 2:

Soon enough they made it out of the Cauldron and into the fire…

"AHHH!!! HOT HOT HOT!!!" yelled the smaller black-robed figure.

"Um, I forgot to cast the flame-freezing charm on you! I'm sorry!" the taller apologised profusely drawing a wand and quickly casting the mentioned charm.

"Urrrr…" was all the smaller figure could say before collapsing into a singed heap.

"Hmpfh. So much for gratitude." The taller said, before roughly picking up the smaller, and marching into Diagon Alley proper.


	8. Chapter 7: The Darker Side of Shopping

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in key events.

* * *

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

* * *

CHAPTER SEVEN: The Darker Side of Shopping...

Decent shopping as Harry discovered involved traipsing alongside Bella to a multitude of shops. At which most of them she would lean in to have a word with the shopkeeper and there would be an exchange of muttered words before leaving the shop and going onwards. He was tempted to ask what was going on, but knew better than to disturb her when she was obviously hunting for something or someone…

They entered yet another dismal seeming shop. The windows were caked with grime and the door smeared with Merlin knew what, prompting Bella to nudge it open with a foot. He could tell from her stance as she viewed the interior and the shopkeeper that this was where she wished to be. A straightening of her spine, her focus completely on the wizard that sat behind the beaten counter – Harry wondered what they were here for until Bella spoke.

"Greetings. My companion and I are in need of your services." Her voice came out low and dangerous.

"Ah, and what services exactly should that be?" The wizard, a greying man – scrawny, who wore a tattered robe and hat, questioned.

"You came recommended. In days such as this, how could I fail to taste your wares?" This – Harry had trouble following until he understood 'days' referred to the current lack of any Dark Power, and 'taste' was a hint at being a Death Eater.

The shopkeeper obviously had come to the same conclusions, for his face showed a modicum of surprise before he nodded slowly before speaking carefully, as if not to offend. "I don't have many customers of your…quality these days…but you understand I must ask for some… proof of identity."

Bella looked carefully at the shopkeeper – he seemed to be the right person, he was more careful than she had heard… though in the days of the Dark Lord, those less-than-Light wizards hadn't had to worry so much about Aurors…

"Very well." She drew Harry's wand, and with a swirl she silently cast the Dark Mark. "I trust that is sufficient for you?"

The man's eyes had widened at the sight of that most feared symbol, before nodding vigorously and beckoning them to the back of the store.

Once in the back of the store, closing the door to the front, he was blunt.

"How many wands are you wanting?"

"Two," came the swift answer from Bella. Harry busied himself in studying his surroundings – the walls were stocked with boxes – with labels like 'Maple' or 'Dragon's Heartstring', though there was one that appeared to say 'Thestral tail hair' – it sounded interesting.

"Very well. Which are your wand arms?"

"We require wands suitable for both."

That comment received a speculative look from the shopkeeper.

"Any other requirements?"

"They need to be…unique."

The older wizard frowned, "you're worried about brother wands?" Before holding up his hands in appeasement, "no need to answer. You'll get what you came for. I'll need a few drops of blood from each of you."

"Naturally." Once again she drew Harry's wand and pressed it gently to her index finger – leaving behind a small cut where blood was already welling. She conjured a small glass vial and let fall a single drop inside, before doing the same for Harry. "The blood is to be destroyed once done." Her words were an order, a threat clearly visible in her tone.

"But of course," he said, before taking the vials, "Now let me see."Taking out his own wand and scanning the blood – his eyes narrowed in thought. "Perhaps Linden? Holly or Hazel? And this one – Bamboo or there is an affinity with Ebony…a close relation to the Black family perhaps? Hmm… cores… Sphinx feather? No not quite right…perhaps Thestral? Or a combination? And the flight feather of a Hippogriff for the other I believe… Yes."

Summoning the required materials, Harry and Bella watched as the wizard set to work.

--

Taking his new Linden wand, 11 ¾ inches, core of Sphinx down and Thestral hair; Harry held it aloft for a moment – studying it in the light from the wall sconces, before giving it a slight wave. A dark mist filled with lightning appeared from the end, and it sent little frissons of delight down his spine. He nodded to Bella – this was as well suited to him as the other wand.

Bella watched Harry carefully as he tested his new wand. At his nod, she felt an almost imperceptible amount of tension recede from herself; and then took to studying her own wand: Bamboo, 12 inches, and core of a Hippogriff flight feather. Rather different from her last. A simple wave and she knew this wand was for her; her old wand would doubtlessly no longer suit, not that she had a chance of getting it back.

"They are adequate. How much are they worth to you?" Here, she was somewhat worried – such wands weren't cheap, and they could hardly afford to bring suspicion to Harry's accounts.

"That will be thirty galleons…each."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing – that was quadruple the amount he had paid in Ollivanders! Despite his shock, Bella seemed satisfied with the asked price and handed over the required amount.

"I trust the usual discretion will be followed?"

"But of course, Sirs."

And with that said; Harry and Bella left the shop.

--

A dozen shops later and Bella had collected a rather interesting set of books – ranging from the rather tame 'The Extensive Treatise on Magic' – a lengthy work on magical theory; 'Loopholes and the Law – revised edition' – a book banned by the current Ministry; 'The Artes of the Mynde' – a book on the mental arts of Occlumency and Legilimency; to 'The Beast Within' – a guide to becoming an Animagus, banned since the 15th century; and 'Dark Gifts' which had a lengthy section on Parseltongue and related magics.

It was, in Harry's opinion far too long before they left to go home, but eventually Bella decided there was nothing left worth buying – at least just yet… so back to Little Whinging they went.

--

Back home again, it was a few days before Harry could once again visit Bella. When he arrived, however, it was to see said witch, scrutinising the rather large tome 'Loopholes and the Law' whilst taking notes.

"Anything of interest?" He inquired; picking up 'Dark Gifts' and leafing through the pages to the section on Parseltongue.

"Maybe… I'd have to visit Gringotts to know more…" She looked up at him and upon noticing his reading material, frowned and told him, "You should start with the Occlumency book, it may be dated, but it is the most authoritative work on the subject and it is the most vital thing of all for you to learn."

Harry blinked in response – weighing up the pros and cons of the situation. He huffed. "Fine." Replacing the book before him with 'The Artes of the Mynde', which he began to read… with difficulty.

_Fore the lerner that is of quicke witt, the accumulatione of the knoweledge of these moste vitale artes wille be of far greater ease…_

"Bella! This… this is all… old!"

She merely looked at him in response.

"Right… I'm reading… I might just need to translate it as I go along." He sighed dramatically.

Another look, and "There is an option known as note-taking you realise."

"Yea, and I realise you are going to look at my notes…"

"Well if the work's already done…" She smiled at him, and he supposed it was only fair, he didn't really fancy reading through books on Law.

He skipped the first section – about how great the book is, and why one should learn Occlumency and Legilimency, going to the next – 'The Arte of Occlumencie', which led to a frown, he really wished they kept their spellings the same.

_… To begin withe one muste firste learne to clear the mynde of all thoughtes, this is believed to have aide in the arte by bringyn controle to the minde and is of moste use to the learner in defense of the sister art Legilimensy. Withe suche the attacker wille see nought that he has came fore and it wille provyde tyme for the learner's natural barriers to remove the attacker…_

Right, he thought, all I have to do is clear my mind.

"What's clearing your mind?" he asked.

Startled by the sudden noise, Bella jumped in her chair. Scowling at him, she responded, "What do you think?"

"Um… like meditation? Trying to focus on one thing to the exclusion of all else? Then trying to think of nothing? How do you think of nothing?"

She snorted, "I would think the latter would be easy for you." At his glare she removed the smirk from her face, "No, I think you have the right of it… maybe just try not to think of anything, push everything from your mind. Is that what it says in the book?"

"Only as the beginner's exercise. Pretty boring though I think."

She sighed, "A lot of useful things are."

--

Another day, another section of the book to read – Harry's Occlumency was coming along… he hoped. Clearing his mind had been awful at first, so he'd taken the suggestion of focus on one thing alone, choosing his breathing. Focussing on every inhale and exhale, he kept having random thoughts float in, and thinking about not-thinking and thinking 'Have I done it yet?' which was a nuisance, but finally he had managed to exert enough control over his thoughts to just exist in this void. He was ready to go on to the next step.

Until Bella interrupted with an abrupt, "Here," and a small package in cream coloured paper with balloons and gold ribbon was thrust in his face.

He barely managed to catch hold of it as she released her hold on the item. Looking at her confusedly, he asked, "What is this?"

She stared at him, mouth agape for a moment. Before recovering her form nicely and using a voice that was a few shades away from a yell, she said, "What do you mean 'What is this?' Is it so absurd to think that I might want to buy you a birthday present, before you go off to Hogwarts, the one year I have the money to spend on such a luxury item!"

It was Harry's turn to stare. A present – for him; he haltingly gave a thank you, and turned his attention to the present. It was neatly wrapped; he shook it – no sound. Giving one last look at Bella, he dug his fingers into the ribbon – pulling it off the box and started on the wrapping. It was a jewellery box. Bella had bought him jewellery. He didn't know whether to be pleased and embarrassed she had spent enough on him to buy jewellery, or just embarrassed that she had bought him jewellery.

Obviously he had taken to long as Bella interrupted with "Are you going to open it sometime today?"

He nodded, cracking open the black box – inside lay a silver pendant – he vaguely recognised it as a rune, but wasn't sure which – it looked like a Y with the lower vertical extending upwards.

"Which rune is it?"

She smiled, obviously pleased that he had recognised it. "It's algiz, from the elder futhark, it's a symbol of protection. I thought it might help, and not only with your Occlumency." She took the rune, and threaded a black strip of leather through it; she beckoned him, necklace in hand, "Come here."

He let her put it around him, the rune felt cold against his flesh until it warmed to match his temperature. He fingered it, "Do you really think it will work?"

She scoffed at his question, "Do you think I would let you go away without any protection?" She paused and frowned, "Other than a secondary wand."

"No. I suppose not." He looked at her, memorising her, for in a month's time he wouldn't see her for about ten months. He swallowed at the thought. "Thank you." He managed to say again, before wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her blouse.

* * *

--

(AN: Um the title… in case you couldn't tell – I don't like shopping…

The wands: Linden is apparently linked with immortality, protection, sleep, luck and love; Holly and Hazel share the properties of protection, luck and anti-lightning (which immediately brought to mind Harry's scar…somewhat ironic?) Bamboo – protection, hex-breaking, truth and devotion.

thoughts on using a sphinx feather – they are known for speaking in riddles… yet it is the truth that they speak…much like Harry has to learn to do – couch his language so it is not readily seen what he is saying… Thestral because of the tie-in with Death. Hippogriff flight feather? Hippogriffs are proud, and dangerous when untamed… which fits with my idea of Bella…

Book titles – out of my head – fairly simple, which has me thinking others may also have chosen those titles… but really the first things that came to mind…more or less…

Okay… I have no idea about Olde English… or whatever… I do know that I've looked at a few images of these old documents (a while ago…) and deciphering them is hard… letter shapes are different too, not to mention the language…

Apologies for the time taken to update – having to face the horrors of exams… Oo

And a BIG THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed – SailorHecate, Lady AeTeRa, ranma hibiki, Getzer, ShyOrangette, Zephyrl, e, Wonderbee31, Harpalycee, kehlencrow and Zevrillion)


	9. Chapter 8: The Express and Other Travels

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in key events.

* * *

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

* * *

CHAPTER EIGHT: The Express… and Other Travels

11am, Platform 9 ¾ was what the ticket read. He knew where to go – despite the illogical platform number; Bella had explained that through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 was the entrance to the platform - where the Hogwarts Express would be waiting. So now, at Kings Cross – which was probably one of the busiest stations in England, he was making his way towards Platforms 9 and 10, valiantly ignoring the odd looks he garnered – wheeling a trunk and holding a caged owl in his other hand. At least, Harry thought, he had gotten a trunk with wheels and enchanted to be weight-reducing despite Hagrid's worries that it would be an unnecessary expense – something Harry didn't quite understand given the masses of gold that lay within his vault.

Honestly – Harry was thankful the Dursleys had agreed to drop him off, though not before adding "And don't be coming back for Christmas!" He'd said his only meaningful goodbyes yesterday – Bella had told him what she would be doing, whilst he was away – she would be trying to find the Dark Lord - something which had Harry's stomach twisting into knots as he thought about what could happen to her.

As it so happened, Harry walked past the platform entrance before realising his mistake and when (hopefully) no one was looking at him he pushed through the barrier.

Red. The train was red. And it was a steam train – of course, he thought, complex machinery tends to stop working in the presence of magic, which led to wondering just how long the journey would be. Bella had been cryptic about as much as she could about Hogwarts – not wanting to spoil the surprise, though she had told him about the Sorting and how the House politics used to work: Gryffindor against Slytherin, with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw generally backing the Gryffindors; something she was sure hadn't changed much in the past 20-odd years. Phrasing which had brought up Harry questioning her age – her response had been "Harry, even in the Muggle world, they warn about asking a lady's age… do you really think it's better to ask a witch?" He'd shut up swiftly on that topic. He was definitely going to miss her.

* * *

On the morning of September 1st, Isabella Black woke early – she had given her notice at the end of the last academic year and was currently unemployed. A state she had been in since July, although she had done some exam marking and some tutoring over the summer. Her former colleagues had been told she was returning to France – she had a sick uncle, and since she had few family members – naturally she was going to see the old man.

Her first stop that morning, however, was not anywhere that her colleagues would recognise. The white marble building gleamed in the early morning sun. Gringotts Bank was open for business and Bellatrix Lestrange née Black had things to do before setting off for France and the rest of Europe in an effort to locate the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Approaching the counter – and a free goblin, she made her request, "I'm here to view the contents of Vault 721."

The goblin checked his ledger, before eying her distastefully, "Nothing may be removed from the vault."

"I'm aware of that." And she was, Vaults 721 through 723 were the same, 721 was hers, 722 Andy's and 723 was Cissa's. One for each Black sister, only to contain her childhood funds, then later her dowry and a copy of the marriage contract. None of the sisters could make a withdrawal, only with their contracted husbands could they do so – but Bella wasn't here for the money, she had something else in mind.

"Grabstick, escort this woman to vault 721."

As she followed the goblin to the cart, she wondered how Harry was, what friends he'd make on the way to Hogwarts and whether she could succeed in her plans.

* * *

Finding an empty compartment was easy enough – the Dursleys had been happy to get rid of him as soon as possible – minimising their interaction with the freak, not that he could blame them for not wanting to go anywhere the magical world when last it left his Uncle Vernon squealing and snorting like a pig for a week. At any rate, there seemed to be few students around – and those that were, wore robes. Possibly Ravenclaws he mused, which made a certain amount of sense – Gryffindors seemed the type to rush in at the last minute, but Ravenclaws were… like their House mascot – the early bird catches the worm.

Harry settled in to the seat, fishing out his copy of 'Magical Draughts and Potions' – Bella had warned him about Severus Snape, the Potions Master at Hogwarts and Death Eater, who had had a rather vicious rivalry with his father and he was determined to not give the man an excuse to give him detention. The less time spent with him the better, for Bella had noted him as one of the two staff members who were sufficiently proficient at Legilimency that they did not require speaking the incantation.

He'd just finished reading the instructions for a potion to cure boils, why he'd ever need to know how to do so was beyond him; when he was interrupted - the door to the compartment opened and a somewhat chubby boy with a toad clutched anxiously against his chest stood in the entrance.

"Um. Hello, may I sit here?" The boy managed to get out, his voice breathy and nervous.

"Of course," Harry gestured the seat opposite, "I'm Harry Potter, are you another first year?"

The boy squeaked slightly – eyes widening at the mention of his name. "Y-yes, I'm Neville Longbottom."

Harry tried not to show his shock at the name – Bella had told him about the Longbottoms – she and a few other Death Eaters had tortured them for information on the Dark Lord's whereabouts after his fall. They had left them broken, minds shattered by the Cruciatus, leaving behind an infant son – Neville. Studying the other boy, he didn't fit what Harry had imagined the other boy to be like – chubby and timid was not it.

"A pleasure to meet you…Neville." Calling the other boy Neville made Harry feel awkward – after all his… Bella was responsible for the effective orphaning of the other boy, and yet Bella was… she was his confidant, his friend, and his mentor.

"L-Likewise." Then noticing Harry's glances towards his toad, Neville added, "And this is Trevor."

Harry's lips twitched, "Trevor the Toad…" before gesturing towards Hedwig, who was currently perched on the luggage rail, "Well this lovely lady is Hedwig." Both boys grinned as Hedwig preened at the mention of her name and the compliment.

"So… what House do you want to be in?" At Neville's choice of question, Harry decided he liked the boy – he was shy, but gentle and astute enough not to bring up awkward questions on Voldemort or the Wizarding World – which Harry, being Muggle raised couldn't be expected to answer.

"Well – Hagrid said my parents were both in Gryffindor, but he didn't tell me much about the other Houses." Which was true, and avoided mention that he'd had fairly in-depth descriptions of each House from Bella – along with reassurances that which House he was in didn't matter to her, but that he should aim to avoid Slytherin.

"Oh! Well your parents were both Gryffindors, as were mine. The other Houses are Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Gryffindors are known for being Light wizards and brave, Hufflepuff – which is probably where I'll be, is officially known for loyalty and hard work, but everyone says it's where those that don't fit any other House end up. Um… Ravenclaw is where the more intelligent students go, those that are interested in academics, and lastly Slytherin is officially known for cunning and ambition, but lots of Dark wizards come from that House." Neville looked up from where he'd been ticking off each House on his finger once he finished, "Does that help?"

Harry was impressed; Neville had offered both biased opinions and actual fact and he hadn't expected the boy to say so much! "Yes. So what is a Dark wizard exactly? Or Light wizard? And isn't that a little unfair – for people to decide an eleven year old is going to end up a Dark wizard? Which doesn't sound all that great. It sounds more like everyone's biased in favour of the Gryffindors."

Neville blinked, opened his mouth and promptly snapped it shut. Before beginning, "You're right that people favour the Gryffindors more – it dates back to the founding of Hogwarts. You've heard of the founders, right?" At Harry's nod, he continued, "Well Slytherin had a dispute with the others over allowing Muggleborns entry to the school, it ended up in a fight between Gryffindor and Slytherin and Slytherin ended up leaving the school. So Slytherin is associated with a lot of the anti-Muggle and anti-Muggleborn feelings. I don't think there's ever been a Muggleborn in Slytherin. But Dark wizard really means someone who uses Dark magic though it's associated with all the blood-purity stuff these days." At Harry's blank look, Neville hurried to explain, "With You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters and their attacks on Muggles, Muggleborns and Muggle-sympathisers…" He trailed off, no doubt thinking of the fates of his parents and Harry's.

"I see." Harry said quietly, "So what do you think Hogwarts will be like? And the classes? I haven't managed to read all the textbooks yet…"

Neville gave a short laugh at that, "I think you'll be in Ravenclaw, if not Gryffindor. I'm… nervous about Hogwarts – there's lots to learn and I'm not very good at magic."

"I'll help you." Harry surprised himself at his offer – what was he doing?

Neville offered Harry a grin, "Thanks. I do like Herbology though, I spend a lot of time in the gardens at home. Really… the… I don't have any friends among the people I know going to Hogwarts." The last came out in a rush and Harry had trouble untangling the words, as Neville looked anxiously at him.

"Oh." What was Harry supposed to say? "Allow me to offer you my hand of friendship." It was said dramatically, Harry rising to his feet and thrusting his right hand towards Neville.

Neville shook it awkwardly. "I accept, and know that you have mine also."

It was theatrically inspired if one were a Muggle, but Harry was sure Neville was aware of the magical implications. An alliance of trust and friendship was sealed between House Longbottom and House Potter, since they were both the respective Heads of their families, despite their youth. A wise choice, Harry hoped, because if Bella were discovered hopefully it would weigh more than past deeds…

* * *

'Marriage Contract between House Black and House Lestrange:

_The terms of this contract are as follows:'_

She skimmed the list finding the one she wanted, _'That if Rodolphus Lestrange is convicted of criminal activities to be held in prison for a duration greater than five years, the contract is dissolved and the dowry be paid back in full to the Black family, also Bellatrix Lestrange will be once more known as Bellatrix Black and free to be married to any other wizard.'_ She was Bellatrix Black, unmarried, though if things had gone differently, she mused, she would be unable to marry anyone suitable according to her family. Someone wanting to marry a formerly married witch? Preposterous! At any rate she was no longer beholden to any of the terms on the contract, which was good – if the rest of her plans could work.

Money and then to France – Muggle style, she may not be being looked for, but if she went through magical means, they would pick up Bellatrix Black as crossing the international boundary.

She left the bank, and swiftly exited through the Leaky Cauldron – on her way to her bank, making a withdrawal of two hundred pounds garnered some looks, which were swiftly appeased as she made her way to the foreign exchange section and requested Francs.

The journey to Dover on the train was long, and Muggle trains just didn't compare to the Hogwarts Express, no matter that it was fast (for Muggles that is), it seemed they sacrificed comfort and luxury as they increased their technology. Unlike her former years, and most of the Wizarding World she no longer looked down upon the Muggle world – their weaponry was capable of massive destruction, and their medical treatments were impressive considering that everything was done without magic. What the top minds could do with magic, added to their repertoire of skills was possibly limitless! Even some Muggle techniques could be used – hollow needles as a way of getting substances into the bloodstream – it was fascinating stuff indeed. Indeed Bella was glad she'd bought the current magazine she was reading 'New Scientist'

Bella couldn't help but muse that her own journey was in all likelihood echoing Harry's, first a train, then a boat, although her boat was considerably larger – as she stared up at the ferry that would take her across the Channel. Unlike Harry though, she thought with a grin, she would be arriving at her destination before time for dinner. She'd long ago decided that the trip to Hogwarts took longer than the reverse, because of the need to form those first precious alliances on the journey.

* * *

Harry and Neville had continued talking about more inconsequential things – like teaching Harry to play Exploding Snap, of which they enjoyed a few games – Neville coming out of his shell a little bit more every time the stack of cards blew up.

Eventually talk went back round to Hogwarts and classes, and it was at this point that the door slid open, and the two boys were asked if they'd like anything off of the trolley. Neville got in first and asked for something of everything – his treat. And so began Harry's introduction to magical sweets – Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs complete with Famous Wizard cards, Cauldron Cakes, and so many more.

He'd just finished a Chocolate Frog and was examining the card when the door opened again; a blond boy stood in the entrance backed by two brutish looking boys.

"My names Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Harry fought the urge to reply with 'Bond, James Bond', even as Neville, eying the blond, stood and introduced himself.

"Neville Longbottom."

"Harry Potter." Harry stood and offered his own name. He wondered how he should handle this, Bella had warned him about the family, but said she was hoping her nephew took after her sister more than the man (with how Bella's face had twisted as she said the word, Harry was sure she wanted to use something stronger) who was her brother-in-law.

Malfoy nodded at Harry, "I had heard you were on the train. Everyone was saying Harry Potter was in this compartment."

That alarmed Harry, no one had entered the compartment but Neville and the trolley witch, yet it was apparently obvious where he was. In future, he decided, he would have to make sure his privacy was better insured.

Malfoy continued, "Though I didn't expect to see you here with Longbottom, but at least you seem to have the right kind of idea."

Harry latched onto that, "Right idea?" He was fairly certain Malfoy was about to spout some rubbish about blood purity, and he didn't have to wait long to be proven correct.

"Both Longbottom and myself are of well-respected pureblood families. Some families aren't worth associating with at all."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that. "Is that so? Well, I'll be sure to take your recommendations under advisement."

Neville was staring at Harry, Harry who apparently had enough knowledge of the wizarding world to not make an offer of friendship with a Malfoy, Harry who knew enough to watch his words.

The pale blond boy was frowning slightly, "May we…"

His question was interrupted by a cough from somewhere behind the two large boys, who parted to show a bushy haired girl with a toad in hand.

"Does…" was as far as she got before, she in turn was interrupted, by Neville's cry of "Trevor!"

She smiled at him, exposing a pair of bucked front teeth, "I take it this toad is yours then. I'm Hermione Granger, first year."

"I haven't heard of the Grangers before…" Malfoy added, trailing off as he backed away from her slightly.

"Oh, I'm a muggleborn. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough…" She blushed slightly as the boys stared in awe at her babble.

"You're muggleborn!" - Malfoy's rather predictable exclamation.

"Yes." Hermione said it slowly, as if he were slightly slow himself.

Malfoy flushed, which Harry mused was the first time he'd seen any colour on the other boy; before proclaiming, "Potter, I'll talk to you more at Hogwarts." With that, Draco Malfoy and his oversized bodyguards left.

"I take it, he's one of the blood purists?" Hermione questioned the remaining boys.

"Ah, yes – he is. His family's pretty much synonymous with pureblood supremacy and Slytherin." Neville offered a response, "And thanks for finding Trevor – I hadn't even realised he'd gone." Then belatedly realising he hadn't yet introduced himself, "I'm Neville Longbottom."

"Harry Potter."

To which the response was "Are you really? I've read all about you!"

Harry interrupted her before she could get properly started – "Do you suppose I could get proceeds from those books? No, I suppose not, it being 'History' after all."

Hermione looked a little embarrassed, but continued on a different subject, "What House are you hoping to be in? I want to be a Gryffindor. I heard the Headmaster was in that House as well…and so were your parents! Do you think it's hereditary or nature vs. nurture all over again?"

Looking over at Neville, who looked as nonplussed as Harry felt, he took a deep breath in preparation to reply, "I don't know what House I want to be in – Neville thinks I could end up in Ravenclaw" which gathered a speculative look from her, "or Gryffindor like my parents. I think families tend to stay in one House, but that's probably part from pressure to be in the same House – I hardly think they're going to force an eleven year old into a House he or she doesn't want to be in."

Neville nodded at the last, "I don't know how everyone's sorted, but it makes sense."

Hermione seemed to mull this over before voicing her agreement, and adding, whilst looking at her watch in consternation, "I was really glad to find out who the toad belonged to, since I was told by a Ravenclaw Prefect I think – that we'd be approaching Hogwarts soon – and I still need to change into the uniform! So… I'll see you at Hogwarts then!" With that she left the compartment.

A voice echoed through the train: 'We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.' And the boys just finished changing as the train came to a halt.

Packing away the uneaten sweets, and neatening their robes, the two entered the crowded corridor, slowly making their way out – where Hagrid stood booming out: "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here" with a large lantern in hand.

Following the rest of the first years, they were led down a dark and narrow path.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

Harry stood stock-still in awe, gazing up at the splendour of the castle before him. "It's amazing." Neville whispered beside him.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Neville occupied one quickly, joined by Hermione and a girl she introduced as "Mandy Brocklehurst."

The boats sped across the lake, approaching the cliff upon which Hogwarts stood. Harry was beginning to feel nervous about the imminent approach of the rocky cliff, but his fears were appeased, as it appeared there was a curtain of ivy through which they passed. From there, the boats continued down a long dark tunnel. Harry was wondering why all of this was necessary for the first years at any rate – and he made a note to find out. Eventually they arrived at an underground harbour, where they all clambered out onto a rocky beach. A further passageway cut through rock and then they were all out on the damp grass – Hogwarts before them.

* * *

(AN: A nice long chapter for you! (Withhold the Internet from me and I write… :S) And to think I couldn't figure out how to add bits I wanted to it… oh, well they'll come later. I'm thinking the chapters will either get longer or stay the same as the longest –more or less… Hope you enjoyed it!

I'm not sure how Neville suddenly became a big part of this - my notes read: meet Neville, a Muggleborn, and Draco. Leave others arguing to find an empty compartment... which... didn't happen. (shrugs)

The Channel Tunnel wasn't built until 1994, and not in regular use until December of that year… (Harry attends Hogwarts 1991 – 1998) which is a shame since it's only 3 hours from London to Paris on the Eurostar…poor Bella.

And some of Hagrid and Hermione's speech is from the book…I think that's all I stole…

Is the switching between Bella and Harry okay? Because if it isn't tough luck – I want you to know what is happening to each of them… because… interesting times lie ahead.

THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed – TheSmallestGhost, Tsurai no Shi, amin1-2-3, SailorHecate, ShyOrangette, bmatsea, AnnF, Gabwr, Zephyrl, Plushie Kitsune, Zevrillion, ranmahibiki, Wonderbee31, froboy, gypsyboho, Pykon, Morgan Daratrazanoff, Dnic5, cutecess, yorkvillebird1, Anders1 and Reviewer of the West)


	10. Chapter 9: Sorting Matters

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in some events.

* * *

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

* * *

CHAPTER NINE: Sorting Matters…

The spray of the sea wind against her face was glorious as she stood upon the deck. It brought to mind the freedom she felt when she had soared above the seas once away from the island prison, Azkaban. Really, she mused, she should be studying the Animagus transfiguration or planning on how she would be able to convince someone who knew her in her Death Eater days that she was loyal to Harry and had his best interests at heart. Instead she was luxuriating in the power and the exhilaration that the salt wind brought her – whipping at her hair – causing tangles which would no doubt leave people staring at her in distaste, much like those staring outside from the windows and pondering the madness that brought her outside in the cold and wet and wind.

It wasn't long before Bella realised they would soon be arriving in France and she needed to straighten up her appearance – no matter how good she looked with windswept hair – it leant all too much to the appearance she'd just been thoroughly shagged. With her sultry good looks, which she'd managed to regain - the leers and lustful looks from the male passengers weren't what she wanted to inspire.

Calais wasn't where she needed to be, and for once she gave thanks to her sister's love of fashion that had sent them to Paris' Rue de Magie, which meant that she was able to Apparate there. Her first stop – the little inn/restaurant, where she intended on eating and getting some much-needed information on the whereabouts of a rather private person.

"Bonjour monsieur. Je voudrais le plat du jour, c'est l'agneau, non? Avec une salade et un verre de vin rouge s'il vous plait" After ordering Bella settled back to enjoy the atmosphere – she hadn't been out to eat in years – disregarding the instances at the Shelter and a little café in Little Whinging. Which was apparently obvious as she savoured the glass of red house wine, because it had a number of wizards passing appreciative looks her way. Not the kind of attention she was wanting right now, but she'd let it pass – if one could offer to help her find a certain elusive person. She certainly wasn't expecting what happened next.

"Bella, how surprising to see you here." The voice was friendly; the hand that tightened on her shoulder was anything but.

* * *

As the other students milled about anxiously whilst awaiting to be Sorted, Harry was scanning the other first years to see if he recognised any based off of the family descriptions Bella had given him – there was a Weasley, but the rest didn't really have any distinguishing features he recognised.

"How do you think we'll be Sorted?" He heard the one he thought was a Weasley ask.

Harry missed the other boy's reply as Minerva McGonagall entered.

"The Sorting Ceremony is about to start. Form a line and follow me."

The Great Hall was everything he'd dreamed of – magical in everyway. The sky above was scattered with stars and he was momentarily amazed by their clarity until he remembered Bella's talks on how annoying Muggle lighting was – it was too diffuse, blocking people from viewing the stars properly. He hadn't appreciated it at the time – even when she'd explained there was a tradition in her family of being named after constellations or stars – now though; he was rather looking forward to his first Astronomy class.

'_Oh you may not think me pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!'_

It was a hat. He wanted to laugh, Bella had no doubt thought he would appreciate this – and he did. He wouldn't have been able to act surprised if he had already known – and… a Hat! It made sense, in an odd nonsensical way that would only make sense to those exposed to magic. So when Professor McGonagall called out his name, he strode forth confidently, fighting the smile that wanted to make its appearance. He hadn't been paying much attention to the other's Sorting, but he had noticed Malfoy's swift entrance into Slytherin… and Neville's mishap with the hat. The smile wanted to come back.

To everyone else the Boy-Who-Lived walked forward with far greater poise than most of his year-mates, eyes twinkling, looking rather much like the young saviour he was meant to be. The Hat opened its mouth – and let out a laugh, before silence once more resumed… the Sorting was taking a while and the students were beginning to gossip – imagine the Boy-Who-Lived taking so long to Sort!

* * *

They were now seated in one of the back rooms – it was small, but it was private, which is what it was intended to be – used mainly for illicit dealings of all kinds, but usually benign lovers' trysts – a place to meet before continuing onwards to a plush Muggle Hotel or similar.

"Now, Bella – How about you explain how you managed to get out of Azkaban and why I shouldn't have you thrown back in." It wasn't a question; the man's grey eyes were cold and forbidding as he glared at her.

"Cissa helped me," Bella replied with a shrug, "You… Frankly I'd rather you kill me than send me back, but you will hear me out first!" She didn't raise her voice too loud – after all this man had hers and Harry's future in his hands, even if he didn't know it.

He nodded, "I can imagine Narcissa would manage to think up something."

Bella looked at him, noting once more the resemblance. "When I escaped, I wasn't… any more in my right mind than when I went in." The confession hurt – still. "I wanted revenge, but instead I found something more – I found… purpose."

The man narrowed his eyes at her, "Go on."

"I found a young wizard, he was being abused by his Muggle relatives. Even as I was, it wasn't something I could stand for – yet I couldn't do anything because the Ministry would know and then they would come!"

He snorted, "I think you are crediting the Ministry with a bit too much. If you'd done a few spells on the Muggles – it's doubtful they would have noticed."

"Oh, they would have. At any rate, I befriended the child and now for the past three years or so I have been living as a Muggle, being his friend, mentor… even his babysitter. I've taught him about the magical world… he… I… He shouldn't have to live in that house, with those… people!" She practically spat the last word out.

"Careful, Bella. Your prejudices are showing."

She looked at him – defeated, "You don't believe me."

"Oh, of course I believe you – you all but adopted a Muggleborn, you – a Death Eater, the Dark Lord's most loyal supporter – lived as a Muggle. Right."

That was it. She'd had enough – lunging out of her chair, Bella grabbed the older man by the front of his robes. "I don't care if you believe me or not!" She snarled, "But you will help that boy!"

* * *

Having a Hat talking in your ear was… interesting, Harry decided afterwards – somewhat companionable, somewhat disturbing.

"So… what do we have here?" the Hat began.

Harry had a panic about the Hat seeing into his head then and frantically tried to Occlude. Nothing – he was in a void of nothingness.

"Um… Hello? Honestly! Do you think they'd let me Sort children if I were going to spill everyone's deepest secrets? I see what you send me… and get a glimpse of the rest… your personality more than the things you know!" The Hat seemed uncomfortable and surprised.

'Sorry about that - I should have realised that before panicking. Um… How should I address you?' Harry did feel rather apologetic – he'd interrupted the Hat's sole purpose, and it really did make sense that the Hat wouldn't be able to talk about whatever it saw in his head.

"…Hat will do Mr. Potter, now how about we Sort you then…Oh my."

'What! Is something wrong?'

"Oh, no… this will be a challenge though – certainly intelligent, rather brave, quite the evasive one as well though…ah – I see now, more through circumstance than anything else, but still incredibly adaptive… very loyal as well I see. Not so keen on hard work but you know the value of it. So where shall I put you?"

'Not Slytherin or Gryffindor.' Harry voiced firmly in his was to his surprise then that the Hat laughed aloud.

"Not Slytherin or Gryffindor, eh? I've never heard that one before – most want to be in one of those Houses… so Hufflepuff then?"

'I could work with that' Harry was already considering the possibilities – he would be overlooked which would be good and he'd be able to establish a number of alliances, though he might not have as much time for his studies…

"RAVENCLAW!" The Hat shouted, and Harry jumped – Ravenclaw – of course. He was the only one to hear as the Hat whispered – "Good luck" before joining the Ravenclaw table, which had erupted into applause.

* * *

"So why is this boy so important to you? Hoping that if you bring him up Dark enough, your Lord will overlook his Muggle blood?" The man was sneering back at her, not in the least mindful of the way she had him pinned. He had the unique experience of watching her face turn red with fury – not an attractive look for her, before she spun away from him angrily.

"That boy is Harry Potter!" She shouted at him.

It took a while for the words to sink into his head, but they did. Then he took the sensible option – he fainted.

* * *

Harry's first impression of the Ravenclaws was mixed – he heard one of them commenting how he almost beat the record for longest Sorting, whilst another was saying how good for their House it was that Harry Potter had been Sorted there. At any rate he was now sat next to Mandy Brocklehurst with whom he'd ridden with in the boat.

"I'm Michael Corner," was the abrupt introduction as a hand was thrust into his face. Harry twitched.

"Harry Potter," he drawled his response, ignoring the hand, slowly raising his eyes to meet those of the other boy. Corner flinched, leaving Harry to inwardly smirk and offer thanks to Bella for informing him of just how to use his eyes to his advantage. Killing curse green was the way she described them, something that hadn't pleased him at first, but her talk on how green was the colour of Life had offered a more pleasing take on it – for him at least.

He noticed Mandy struggling not to smile at his put-down of the other boy and he was about to speak to her, when Zabini, Blaise was sorted into Slytherin – the last to be Sorted. So instead he watched as the Headmaster gave a welcome and uttered a few nonsense words, the latter of which, was rather off-putting – words could hold power, and who knows what those words held?

Such thoughts didn't hold his attention long however, as the platters and plates before him rapidly filled with food – he spared an idle thought to what his cousin's reaction would be to the spread of food before him, before digging in heartily – making a conscious effort to avoid gluttony – eating well was one thing, stuffing to the point where one was incapable of swift movement was not.

He soon let himself be drawn into conversation about what the classes would be like, and listened as his year-mates told about their families, as his attention started to wander he found himself observing the teacher's table – focussing on first the Headmaster, then the man he suspected to be Severus Snape – Death Eater and Legilimens.

It was then that he felt it – a sharp stabbing pain across his scar, there was a momentary slip in his expression before he thrust back against the pain – angry. Somehow, Harry didn't think Snape was behind it – the Dark Lord caused the scar; one of his servants wasn't likely to be able to affect it, which meant the Dark Lord was rising. Oh, how he wanted to get word to Bella, but they hadn't been able to arrange a secure method of communication, which meant he'd have to remain at Hogwarts and remain watchful. Working on his Occlumency would no doubt be a good start, but Harry had a least some subconscious barriers up – yet his scar still flared – he definitely had to start on some of the heavier tomes on magical theory.

* * *

Something…someone rather, was patting him on the face, an annoying flutter more than anything – so the open-handed slap that whipped his other cheek into the floorboards wasn't expected. It was painful. He sat up and glared at his assaulter, which was when he remembered who it was and what had happened.

"Harry Potter?" his voice sounded faint to his own ears, bad idea to sound weak before Bella, but he'd had a slight shock so he felt he could excuse himself well enough.

The woman before him sighed, "Yes, Harry Potter."

"But you…" he didn't quite know what to say.

"Yes, I'm a Death Eater, I'm a Black, a Dark witch, an all round horrible person – so will you help me help Harry Potter?"

She'd cracked, only maybe it was in reverse? A sort-of non-madness cancelling out her previous natural state of sadistic glee? What was he thinking?

"So you say you've been in contact with Harry Potter. What exactly has this got to do with me?" There, she was most probably delusional – as if she would be able to get to the Boy-Who-Lived… he may as well see what it was she wanted, before discreetly contacting some Aurors.

"I formally request that you, Alphard Black adopt me into your family."

Definitely cracked.

* * *

The Ravenclaw common room was impressive, located in a tower – something used to great advantage as bookshelves lined the walls, complete attached ladders, which as he soon witnessed moved along brass railings – allowing the students to reach any book with ease. The ceiling was high in order to accommodate the second level that covered roughly half of the area within the tower. Stairs spiralled up gracefully to what was explained as the lounge area – plush sofas in deep blue were casually arranged with low golden wood tables between them. The lower level in contrast, had several round tables for studying, the floor was still the same polished golden wood, but where in the lounge area the floor was covered in soft fur rugs, the library level made do with what Harry decided were probably Persian rugs.

"…you may be wondering where your dorms are, the spiral staircase leading to the lounge continues upwards to the dorms. Whilst I doubt I need to tell you this, it is not possible for you to enter a dorm that isn't yours. You will share a dorm with the same people for the duration of your studies at Hogwarts, unless you work hard enough that you end up Head Boy or Head Girl who are given the privilege of having their own room. Books are not to be taken from here into the dorms – the reason for that is simple, over exposure to sunlight is damaging to some of the books, which is the reason for the lack of windows. Now, do any of you have any questions before we lead you to your dorms?"

Harry couldn't think of a single question to ask, there was enough information that he already had to process, unlike him however, Mandy was already raising her hand.

"Ah, and what is your question, Miss…?" the Prefect asked.

"Oh," She blushed slightly, " I'm Mandy Brocklehurst… I was wondering when we get our schedules and if there are any tutorial sessions?"

"Schedules will be handed out tomorrow at breakfast – so I recommend you pack all your books for the first day at least. We don't have tutorial sessions exactly, but if you are having trouble in a class – I suggest you speak to the teacher or request help from your classmates… Is that all?"

Harry was musing on how he was going to keep up with his Occlumency whilst not appearing too dumb for Ravenclaw – although the Ravenclaw library was certainly going to be helpful.

* * *

An Unbreakable Vow – she would not intentionally seek harm to Harry Potter and she had told the truth to the best of her knowledge about Harry Potter – given. Alphard had been surprised at her readiness to make the Vow. Hopefully now they would get somewhere.

"Why do you want me to adopt you? What purpose could that possibly serve?" He was still slightly disbelieving.

"If you adopt me then I can become someone else. Plus there would be an excuse for why I'm not known – you left Britain for France, you had to be on guard for attacks – it would be feasible that you kept your daughter hidden…With a legitimate wizarding identity I can help Harry… Please Uncle Alphard, you helped Sirius when he wanted to leave, help me do the right thing!"

It made sense, though Alphard felt he was missing something, she had another motive here that she hadn't yet mentioned…

"You'll stay with me, whilst I decide what to do with you." Of his nieces, Bella had been his favourite when they were young – his first niece, looking up at him with large solemn dark eyes… angry when her younger cousin Sirius had claimed that boys were better – all fiery temper and Black stubbornness. Perhaps that little girl hadn't been completely destroyed by what she had later become.

* * *

Joy. He was rooming with Michael Corner, Terrence 'Terry' Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Stephen Cornfoot and Kevin Entwhistle. All of who seemed rather pleased to be rooming with 'Harry Potter' – 'Boy Who Lived'. He was waiting for one of them to ask if he remembered anything from that night; he sighed.

"Um, are you alright Harry?" Kevin's question drew the attention of the other boys to him.

"I suppose you already know quite a few spells then." It wasn't quite a sneer, but Corner's attitude was clearly against Harry – perhaps his snubbing of the other boy had been a bit too harsh.

" I only know the tickling hex – my cousin's rather fond of that one." Goldstein had a rather wry grin on his face as he spoke. The other boys laughed.

"Actually my relatives never told me anything about the magical world. Though I am looking forward to trying out some of the spells I've read about – Transfiguration and Charms look to be very useful. Though I'm not so keen on the idea of Potions." That was it, Harry decided, hopefully the conversation would lead round to Snape.

"Yea, I heard that Snape – that's the Potions professor, is biased against everyone not from his own House. Gryffindors get the worst of it though – and as Ravenclaws we should be fine." Goldstein again.

"Well in that case, I think I better read some more of my Potions book." Having said it, Harry opened his trunk to take out his textbook, deciding then to unpack the rest of his stuff into the small chest o' drawers and wardrobe provided. His books he placed in his book bag along with school supplies for the following day. He didn't however, read his Potions text, instead reading his Occlumency notes hidden within the pages of the rather boring book on the brewing of various potions.

* * *

(AN: And in English – Bella says 'Hello, I would like the dish of the day, it's lamb, no? Also a small salad and a glass of red wine, thank you.' Errors in the French are my fault… help was gotten though.

So I'm hoping none of you are overly disappointed to see Harry in Ravenclaw… Perhaps he is more Slytherin, perhaps not… certainly more of a toss-up between Ravenclaw and Slytherin and… I don't think the Hat is going to Sort eleven year olds into a House they aren't happy with… I'm thinking it's a little more child-friendly than that… What do you think of Harry going into Ravenclaw?

Alphard – the only relative I thought I could deal with… but look! A Black! Actually I figured I could use him since we know little about him… and he was blasted off the tapestry for giving gold to Sirius…

I hope you all enjoyed this as much as it seemed you enjoyed the last… I was ridiculously happy when I realised there were over 100 reviews…

Updates – I will try to update every…(picks what she thinks is a reasonable number) sixteen days… (Two weeks is what I would prefer – but I have an upcoming project…)

Thank you to all you lovely reviewers – jitterbug393, Gabwr, Tsurai no Shi, Rabid Reader 4, blueoctober, dovaly, Zevrillion, Reviewer of the West, the (french) dark lord, TheSmallestGhost, ShyOrangette, Heather, dianehc, Zephyr1, cutecess, kehlencrow, Meggplant, Amber Jack, Wonderbee31, SailorHecate, LandUnderWave, Morgan Daratrazanoff, Kirinin, Gundum M, nafio and Potterfreak52390.)


	11. Chapter 10: Firsts

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in some events.

* * *

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

* * *

CHAPTER TEN: Firsts

It was the first day and his timetable was… interesting, that is 'interesting' in the 'May your life be interesting'- Chinese curse meaning of interesting. Double Potions each Monday morning – with the Hufflepuffs, which really had Harry wondering why on Earth the Gryffindors and Slytherins were paired for that particular lesson. Naturally this was followed by two hours of Transfiguration before lunch…also with the Hufflepuffs, Harry was really questioning why the Gryffindors and Slytherins got stuck with each other for those particular lessons with first one Head of House and then the other… whoever timetabled the lessons was doubtlessly rather sadistic.

The Potions classroom was in the dungeons, and luckily an older student with a free period was willing to show them the way. Dark and dank the dungeons lived up to their name. The Hufflepuffs were huddled together – as if staying within a group could shield them from the harsh character of their surroundings. Harry had just seated himself at a desk with Goldstein, who was probably the least objectionable of the other Ravenclaw boys, when Professor Snape swept into the classroom black robes billowing out behind him and managing to cause one of the Hufflepuff girls to squeak in fright.

It wasn't long into the lesson that Harry knew without a doubt that Snape at the very least disliked him and more probably loathed him. Not long meaning reaching his name in the register and commenting 'Ah, yes. Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity.' It only went downhill from there in his opinion.

"Potter! What is the difference between Clematis and Flammula Jovis?"

Clematis? Flammula Jovis? He'd never heard of them!

"I don't know, sir." Harry answered softly, from his peripheral vision he could just about make out the look of shock on Anthony's face. This wasn't a question his classmates were likely to know either.

Snape sneered, "Clearly fame isn't everything then Potter. Tell me, where might one find a bezoar?"

Bezoar – that sounded familiar to Harry. He knew this one, Bella… Harry became aware of Snape's intense stare fixated upon him, and started running through the various Occlumency exercises he knew.

"The stomach of a goat, sir. It will protect you from most poisons, sir." Harry said – most of his attention on maintaining his Occlumency.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Correct. Though I don't recall asking for additional information. One last question to redeem yourself for your showing of ignorance: What might one conclude upon coming across a person unable to speak, with fluttering hands and dilated pupils?"

Some kind of poison? He had no idea. "I don't know, sir."

Black eyes glittered, "For your information, Clematis and Flammula Jovis are the same plant – also known as Upright Virgin's Bower."

Harry had the idle thought that Snape was the only teacher who could get away with saying 'virgin' without the class lapsing into giggles.

"The symptoms I spoke of are indicative of Belladonna poisoning. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Harry grabbed his quill and began writing down the information, glad to have the excuse to put his head down. Belladonna… He wasn't sure if he believed in coincidence. If nothing else, he needed to better his Occlumency, especially around Snape.

* * *

Harry Potter was in Ravenclaw, not quite what was expected, though both Lily and James were rather intelligent. Trying to get information from the Sorting Hat had been useless as it had once more reminded him that it's function was to Sort people into Hogwarts' Houses, not gossip about what others were thinking. Ravenclaw could prove quite troubling, but doubtlessly he was worrying needlessly and the boy would no doubt shine in his new House, getting lost in academics. Still, he had thought the boy would be in Gryffindor, or in Slytherin, which would have been a true cause for concern. No matter, he'd see what Severus thought of the boy later.

The boy's poise as he had been Sorted was something of an enigma as well. Just where had he picked that up? Yes, Harry Potter was proving to be rather different than expected – he'd have to check with Arabella later and see what observations she could offer to the picture he was building of the boy.

* * *

When Bella woke, it was to birdsong at some ungodly hour of the morning, a quick _Silencio _at the window and she fell back to sleep – or tried to at any rate. The knocking on the bedroom door wasn't exactly quiet.

"Bella! I know you're awake! Get dressed and we can get everything sorted." The shouting was easily audible through the door, though Bella wasn't certain whether her uncle meant for his next words to be heard, "then I can get rid of you."

Half-awake consideration gave two probable meanings – out of his house, or murder; further consideration as she dragged her weary self out of bed led to her deciding that it was most likely the former, otherwise he might have stayed with the family… and not hidden himself away.

A shower, a delightfully hot shower, woke her up. She was in Alphard's home. They'd Apparated here yesterday – and today hopefully they would work out the details of whatever arrangement they would make – Merlin only knew she wouldn't be getting something for nothing, even if this was family.

So it was that an hour later, (which was admittedly a long time to get ready, but damn it, she was entitled to some pampering of herself) she joined her uncle for breakfast. A breakfast after which she would end up attempting once more to convince him of her sincerity in her desire to aid Harry:

"I see." The frown on his face suggested he didn't, despite his words. "You… I must have finally succumbed to the madness inherent in our family… I'll do it, once you have convinced me of your reasons."

"Agreed. I trust it will not take overly long for you to reach a conclusion." Bella still found it odd trading stilted careful words with him – a need for such within the family was… almost distressing, though if it were Cissa or possibly Andy it would actually be distressing.

"No. I don't believe it will." He paused, "Perhaps you can tell me when and why Sirius decided to follow his younger brother's example."

"I… was most shocked to hear that Sirius was in Azkaban. I would never have believed that he was loyal to the Dark Lord." It was strange, Bella thought, Alphard looked almost hopeful of something.

"So as far as you know, Sirius was never a Death Eater?" He pressed her.

"What are you getting at, Alphard? Sirius is a convicted criminal, who betrayed the Potters to the Dark Lord."

"And you are a loyal Death Eater who cares for Harry Potter."

"Touché." So she was acting as a bit of a hypocrite.

Alphard smirked before it collapsed into a familiar grin, "Actually Sirius wasn't convicted, no trial was held – though his killing of Pettigrew and those Muggles was fairly straightforward." He sighed, "Your loyalties are split – you think the Dark Lord is not dead, yet you are apparently looking out for Harry Potter. What are you planning Bella?"

Her expression froze, "That was a rather abrupt subject change, uncle. Makes one wonder…" she said before sighing herself, "I still believe the Wizarding World needs to change, furthermore my views on Muggles has changed as a result of actually living among them… though Harry's relatives are… eurgh! They are everything I stood and stand against. This world is too soft – there are some things, which should not remain unpunished." She had stood as she made her impassioned statements.

Alphard couldn't stop the rueful smile on his face as he said, "You haven't changed all that much have you? All adamant that change needs to happen, but not going far enough to figure out a way to make it happen… though I admit the latter isn't the easiest." Leaning forward in his chair, he continued, "It'll take a few days to perform an adoption ritual – I take it you have one in mind?" He had the satisfaction of seeing her nonplussed.

She nodded, eyes still wide in shock, "Yes."

"Do you have anything to occupy you while we prepare for it? You realise you owe me for this – giving up meat and purifying oneself has to be the most annoying part of rituals."

She raised a sardonic brow, "And you realise that as a former Death Eater, I will most likely have it worse? Purifying potions – eurgh!"

Alphard looked intrigued, "And when did you have a chance to taste those things?"

"…I was one of three sisters you know, that's rather useful in some cases, especially since we're so different, Cissa – blonde and pale, Andy – russet brown and more the English Rose, and myself – all dark hair and eyes." She rolled her eyes as she described her sisters and herself.

"So have you seen them since your escape? And how is it that I haven't heard of the escape of the vicious murderess Bellatrix Lestrange?" He was genuinely curious, there was obvious bad blood between her and Andy, but Narcissa?

* * *

Harry's other classes were better, even if he hadn't managed to turn his matchstick into a needle… he did manage to make it vaguely pointy, unlike Anthony who was his partner for the lesson, and had managed to make it soft… and floppy – much to the amusement of Corner and some of the other boys when he picked it up. Harry for his part, was frankly amazed Corner had already graduated from rather base humour to…rather base humour of a different sort.

Charms, however, was the best – not only was it with their rather diminutive Head of House, Flitwick, but they shared it with the Gryffindors – which meant he'd see Neville… and Hermione, who was somewhat of an afterthought for him.

How she had managed to be sorted into Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw eluded him, but he had to confess, if only in his own mind, that he was thankful she wasn't in the same House as he – she was a tad too enthusiastic and given her seeming incredible memory… well he didn't exactly need suspicions to be drawn upon him. His first conversation with the girl once they'd settled in had been nerve-wracking.

It had been their second evening at Hogwarts and he'd joined Neville to have a look around Hogwarts, discussing the subjects they'd had so far and commiserating each other with regards to Potions. Then Hermione had joined them.

"Hi Neville, Harry. How have you been finding classes?" The chirpy behaviour seemed a bit at odds with how she otherwise acted (barring her obvious excitement on the train) and thinking about it, Harry had an inkling as to why.

"Classes are fine, though Professor Snape doesn't seem to be particularly fond of me. How are you finding Hogwarts?"

And then he was treated to her enthusiastic rambling about the classes, magic, and the castle itself – interspersed with quotations from 'Hogwarts, A History', but notably lacking anything regarding the other students.

He ventured a question, "So what are your dorm mates like?"

She seemed surprised at his interest, "Well…Lavender and Parvati are nice, but all they're into, is boys, fashion and makeup – I mean really! At this age!"

Harry stared at her aghast. "Sure-Surely that's an exaggeration! They can't be all that bad…" he trailed off as the two in question walked past, arm in arm, giggling and flashing him flirtatious smiles. "Dear Merlin, they are that bad."

Hermione giggled herself, at the look of horror on his face, before sobering and saying, "At least you don't have to share a dorm with them."

"Ah, yes, but I have Michael Corner, which isn't all that pleasant either." He came back at her.

"Ha!" Neville crowed, "I have you both beat, I have to put up with Ron's snoring."

The other two just looked at him, "Silencing Charms work wonders." Hermione told him, before both Harry and Hermione offered to teach him how to Silence his bed.

* * *

"The Beast Within?" Alphard smirked at her, "I'm surprised you haven't learnt before now."

She gave him an assessing look, "How old were you when you learned?"

"Eighteen." His swift response, "Do you know what form you'll be yet?"

Bella sighed, and put the book down. "No. I'm getting rather frustrated with the whole thing. It's a damned useful thing to be able to do, but…" She let loose a slight growl at her lack of progress. She narrowed her eyes at him, "so are you going to tell me what your form is? Or do I have to guess?"

"I'd leave you guessing but I think you might hurt me. A wolf and you'll be interested to know that as Blacks, we tend to reflect that in our Animagus forms. Every Black animagus that I know of has been black in colour, even though it's rarely the norm."

"Black. Hmm. Any advice on how to determine your form?"

He looked at her appraisingly, "You should think about what you're like. For instance, I don't see you as a flighty sparrow type. You'd be a predator, like most of our family. What form that predator takes I have no idea. But once you know, I'm willing to help you…"

"Why? Because I'm Pack?"

He snorted softly in choked laughter. "I rather think humans have similar social instincts, but one's form doesn't rub off quite that much. You'd hardly see me marking my territory. Though the more time you spend in it, the more animalistic characteristics you may pick up."

"Right." She gave him a wry grin, "but I have to worry about finding my form first, rather than whatever traits I'd pick up."

* * *

AN: Apologies for the wait. My excuses: Ill, major project, ill, exams (still not over), evil chapter… A huge thank you to all those who reviewed, I'm sorry I didn't manage to reply to most of you… I'd be amazed at how many reviews I've received for the last chapter, but since it's been over three months…. Ack. This chapter has been hell, because it kept going wonky, but it's done now. Also it's not as long as the previous two… sorry, but it wouldn't go longer without forcing it, which I didn't want to do.

And I have a question for you gentle readers… What do you think Bella's animagus form is?

I want people to guess so I can laugh at how wrong they are… or go 'Nooo! I am so obvious!' either way… it's all good.

And I forget my other question. Though it looks like this summer I will be writing lots and lots… which is good.

Right. Left. stares at outline for chapter 11 So… I haven't started writing it yet…which is possibly a good thing, since I had half of chapter 10 written when I posted the last… then of course I had to re-write and re-write again. (mutters 'stupid timetables, timelines and plottiness!)

Thank you once more for reviews, and sorry again for the wait.


	12. Chapter 11: Delusions of Grandeur

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in some events.

* * *

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

* * *

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Delusions of Grandeur and Other Things…

She eyed the milky white potion with distaste; she was most definitely not looking forward to purifying herself. The last time she'd had to drink one, she'd spent the day alternately vomiting and trying to swallow enough water that she wouldn't dehydrate or over-abrade her throat from all the acid. It hadn't been a nice sight to see either, thick black ooze working its way out of her – a sort of Dark Magic given physical form, only it was more than that – it was emotion and magic and toxins and that is what made it purifying. When it was done all that had been left was herself, pure as the day she was born, perhaps purer. Gritting her teeth, she uncorked the bottle; face twisting into a grimace as she swallowed the sickly sweet potion.

She blinked once, twice in surprise, before feeling bile rise up in throat.

* * *

Defence against the Dark Arts had to be the worst class was what was currently being thought by Harry as they left after another fruitless lesson filled with stuttering and a lack of anything he considered true Defence. Bella had taught him more about the Dark Arts and defending against them, granted she was a Death Eater or had been, but still Harry had expected a little… more from one of the top schools in Europe.

He was still miffed as Neville and Hermione took him by his arms and led him to a seat at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

"Rough day?" Neville asked, looking somewhat bemused.

"I just had Defence against the Dark Arts. It was pointless."

At which point Hermione opened her mouth to begin a tirade on how classes are not pointless, but was interrupted by a redhead gesturing wildly with a drumstick.

"Defence is better than Potions, at least. You probably don't need to know much about that though, I guess." The redhead said rather thoughtlessly.

Harry twitched at the sight of half-eaten food as the boy spoke. "I don't believe we've been introduced." He said in lieu of anything else to say, "Though I think I prefer Potions to Defence, at least in Professor Snape's class I feel I'm learning something useful."

"Lessons aren't useless, Harry. And you Ronald, you should chew with your mouth closed, I mean really." Hermione chided the two boys.

"I didn't say lessons were useless, Hermione. I merely stated that the lesson I just had was pointless. I spent the entire hour bored, since I've already read ahead, and listening to the Professor stutter along and not encourage any practical work is rather discouraging. I mean, Potions is a lot of practical work and in Transfiguration we're already attempting a basic transfiguration from match to needle." Harry calmly said in response, whilst Ronald sputtered at Hermione's scolding.

"Why don't you just practice more outside of class, if it doesn't suit you?" Neville suggested mildly.

"That's not the point, though I'm already using your suggestion. The school has a responsibility to provide us with good teachers who are able at their craft. Granted, we have a responsibility to learn, but hindering us with sub-standard teachers isn't a particularly brilliant idea."

"Blimey, no wonder you're in Ravenclaw. I'm Ron Weasley by the way." He held the hand, which had previously held a drumstick, out for Harry to shake.

Harry stared at the hand. He was saved from having to shake, by the arrival of Draco Malfoy at the table.

"What's this? Harry Potter eating with the Gryffindors? I rather think the Slytherin table would be more to your taste." He drawled.

"Hello Draco." Harry's lips twitched as he took in the other boy, not currently dwarfed by the presence of his bodyguards.

"You're on first name terms with him!" came what Harry thought was a rather predictable outburst from the Weasley boy.

"What's it to you?" Malfoy sneered, looking the boy up and down, "Let me guess, red hair, freckles, hand me down robes – you must be a Weasley!"

The expected blow-up didn't turn out as expected at all. Two hands clamped down on Malfoy's shoulders and in stereo came, "Now our ickle Ronniekins may be a bit messy, but lumping us all as alike and in the same category as Percy," they shuddered in unison, "Prefect Percy – is a bit much."

Malfoy flushed and tried to escape their grasp, but the Weasley twins having experience in tackling their younger sibling, easily resisted his attempts.

"Now, now young Malfoy." Began one twin.

"You don't think we can let a comment like that go unpunished…" the other continued.

"Do you?" they finished in unison, peering in closely at the younger boy, eyes bright with mischief.

"Hexing a student is against the rules." Hermione said sharply, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And Professors Snape and McGonagall are heading this way." Neville added helpfully.

"Ah, we weren't planning on anything too awful." The twins' mischievous grins as they spoke reassured none of those present.

"By Merlin. We'd best get to it, they really are on their way." Cried out the twin on the right, peering over to the approaching teachers.

In a single fluid motion both twins released Malfoy from their grasp, and placed their hands in gel-slicked back hair, ruffling it into a state worse than Harry's. The look of absolute horror on the blond boy's face left those at the Gryffindor table bent over in peals of laughter.

"Well George?"

"Yes, Fred?"

"I'd say our work here is done."

They looked critically at the Malfoy boy, and with twin nods, they informed him, "Perhaps a tad too messy, but a fair bit better than before." With a last wink and nod towards the first years, the two scrambled out of the Great Hall.

The first years just looked at each other.

"Interesting characters, your brothers." Harry remarked to Ron Weasley, whose angry flush has turned into an embarrassed one at his brothers' antics.

Draco Malfoy also bore an embarrassed flush, contrasting sharply with his white-blond hair and pale skin. Harry's remark served to wake him from his shock.

"How dare they! Who do they think they are? To manhandle me in such a fashion!"

Hermione eyed him critically, "You realise that if you protest too much, they'll merely do it again and again, right?"

"Perhaps he wants that reaction, Hermione." Harry suggested blandly to her.

Draco stared at them agape even as the younger Weasley sibling snorted. "Yea, if you react like you just did, they'll keep doing it."

"Is there a problem here?" Professor McGonagall addressed them, with Snape glowering at her side.

"No, Professor." Neville told her mildly, "Just inter-House discussion."

Harry picked up Neville's thread, "Well… there's been some wondering as to where we could meet outside of mealtimes and classes. The Library is bit too restrictive for meeting friends there."

The two professors seemed taken aback.

"Well… I'll see if a classroom can be arranged." McGonagall managed to say.

"Professor, with all due respect, we'd like something that acts as an inter-House common room." Hermione informed her, her quick mind able to follow Harry's idea and its possible applications.

"I'll see what I can do, Miss Granger." McGonagall smiled at her student, "I'm pleased to see students from different Houses getting along so well." Despite her words she glanced at Malfoy with some concern.

"It's improving, Professors." Harry added with a slight nod, to indicate his respect for their positions and also that they weren't needed at the table any longer.

* * *

Alphard smirked at her as she joined him in his study, "Enjoy the potion?"

Her response surprised him.

"It wasn't as bad as the last time," she frowned considering her earlier experiences, "there wasn't a great deal of that awful gunk to cough up."

He pondered her words for a bit, before speaking, sounding somewhat unsure. "Perhaps, the majority of the Dark magic had already left your system somehow."

Bella's eyes widened in realisation, and at his questioning look she explained. "It was sometime after I'd escaped Azkaban and made a somewhat friendship with Harry." She laughed bitterly, "I was his first friend. His relatives are appalling and even as insane as I was, I wasn't happy with leaving a wizarding child with them. Despite my lapses into thinking the Dark Lord present and various other slips. Then I got ill, badly. I thought I would die." She paused reflecting on that time.

"What happened?"

"He healed me. No more hallucinations, fewer flashbacks," she snorted, "even less nightmares."

Alphard stared at her slightly aghast, "He managed intentional wandless magic? Wandless Dark magic?"

"It was to heal me. He was willing to risk everything. I told him about Dark Magic soon after, he won't turn – he's seen the dangers." She told him in strident tones.

He nodded accepting her words. "Nevertheless, you should still keep an eye on his magic use. It may have been several years ago, but if he's that powerful then using emotion to further power his magic may come instinctively…"

"He's learning Occlumency." Bella butted in.

"He is? Why?" Alphard was beginning to wonder if he'd ever stop being surprised by this double act of Bella and the Boy Who Lived.

"Both Dumbledore and Snape," the latter name was spoken with extreme distaste, "are practitioners of Legilimency."

"You believe that Snape will use it on him." Alphard nodded as he thought about what he knew of the man's character.

"I'm not sure Dumbledore will resist the temptation either."

* * *

"Ah, Severus. Tell me, what do you think of our young Mr. Potter?" The older man leaned back in his chair as he spoke.

The other man sneered, "He's not as arrogant as his father, though his budding friendship with the younger Malfoy might be a cause for concern." Pursing his lips slightly he thought about his next words. "I think he may have some teaching of Occlumency."

The Headmaster sat upright in shock. "What makes you think that?"

"While I was asking questions in his first class… he kept his mind remarkably clear, though he didn't manage to repel my probe."

"Hmm. This is an interesting conundrum. It would appear that Hagrid was not his first exposure to the Wizarding World."

"Not necessarily, Headmaster." Snape began. "I have met a Muggleborn with no knowledge of Occlumency able to keep his mind rather clear, though not to the ability that Potter shows."

"Indeed, that is interesting. Are you aware of how he did it?"

"I believe it's something learnt whilst studying certain ways of Muggle fighting."

"Hmm, then we'll just have to keep an eye on Mr. Potter."

Snape snorted, "Something we'd be doing anyway."

* * *

"Time to get this thing underway then." Alphard stated with some uncertainty. They were both physically ready for the ritual, but that didn't make their nerves any steadier, even though the ritual was a simple one. It had to be, adoption usually involved a child and as such it wasn't an overly difficult ritual.

Moving into the centre of the ritual circle, he beckoned to Bella. She took her place kneeling before him.

"I, Alphard Black claim that Bellatrix Black be of my flesh by blood and magic. Do you accept the claim?"

Head high, she met his eyes directly. "By blood and magic, I, Bellatrix Black accept the claim. I renounce my former parentage, and claim Alphard Black as my father."

Taking a prepared potion, Alphard sliced his wand hand allowing blood to drip into the simple goblet. With a graceful motion he held the goblet to her lips.

"Drink of my blood, and become my daughter and let the magic bind us." He intoned the ritual words, carefully guiding the goblet as she swallowed the liquid inside.

She was paling as she drank, and when the last drop was gone, she swayed slightly before collapsing to the floor.

* * *

It was before dinner and Harry, Neville and Hermione were in a disused classroom. Hermione sitting properly at a desk whilst Neville was slumped on a chair and Harry leant against the teacher's desk. It had been rather dusty but a few well-aimed cleaning spells had rid them of the worst of it.

"Do you think Malfoy realises that by not reacting to the twins, it just means they'll try harder?" Neville inquired idly.

Hermione sniffed and in an imitation of Malfoy's tone said, "It'll be a useful learning experience for him."

The trio shared grins, before Hermione addressed the other two boys.

"Do you really think they'll make an Inter-House common room? I mean, in Hogwarts, A History, there's very little mention of mixing between the Houses."

"Well, I think it's a good idea…maybe. I suppose the problem is what will happen when fights break out."

Hermione looked startled at the thought. "Fights?" she voiced.

Neville nodded. "There are a few family feuds currently going on, and mixing Gryffindors and Slytherins rarely works out well. Even the Heads of House don't seem to get along all that well."

"It would work better if we could limit the numbers of people to those trusted not to fight." Harry mused, "I suppose what we really want is a club of some sort – then we'd have some authority over the members being its founders."

"Well there's already a Gobstones club… We could be a Homework club!"

Neville gaped at Hermione, whilst Harry just gave her a look.

"Well isn't that what we're currently doing? We came here to practice spells and work on our knowledge of magic. If that isn't a homework or study club, then what is it?" She asked indignant at their less than lukewarm response.

Neville turned to face Harry, "She's right." He said in a voice lightly tinged with awe. To Hermione he added, "I've never considered myself as studious though. Are you sure I should be in this club?"

"Often when one has trouble in a class, in understanding or retaining the concepts, it's recommended to find a tutor, and get things explained in a different manner." Harry input.

Neville straightened slightly. "So that was a yes?"

The sole girl in the room sighed. "Yes, Neville. What Harry meant was if you're having trouble you should get help and the club counts as help."

"Hmm." Harry seemed lost in thought to the others.

"What's the matter?" Neville inquired.

"I was just wondering if forming a study group with non-Ravenclaws would be considered a betrayal of my House. Though we don't have any, the younger students are encouraged to ask help and questions from the older students or research in the House library."

"You have a House library?" Hermione all but shrieked.

He frowned in response, "Gryffindor doesn't?"

"No." Hermione slumped at the news, "Maybe I should have gone with Ravenclaw instead, since I don't really have much in common with any of the Gryffindors."

Neville commiserated with her, "Me neither. I'm not too sure how I ended up in Gryffindor. I thought I would end up in Hufflepuff."

Harry pre-empted the question he knew one of them would probably ask. "I asked the Hat not to place me in either Gryffindor or Slytherin."

The other two seemed startled.

"Okay." Hermione began, "I can see why you wouldn't want to be in Slytherin, but what's wrong with Gryffindor?"

He opened his mouth to reply but Neville held up a hand.

"Wait. Think about it Hermione, if Harry were in Gryffindor everyone would be far more into the whole Saviour ideal, as a Ravenclaw he seems more… ordinary, though Hufflepuff would have worked best for that. Plus he'd have had to be at odds with Malfoy, and they aren't a family you want as your enemy… or your friend really." Neville's round face scrunched into a frown as he spoke the last.

"How do you know all this Neville?" Hermione's curiosity was easily read, from her eager tone to her leaning forward to gather every word.

Neville blushed slightly at the attention. "Well, it's all the Pureblood politics and traditions I was taught, I mean it's simpler when you apply motivations and underlying traditions and ideas to schoolchildren, but I suppose it's the same thing."

"What about the Muggleborn students like me? Are there any classes on wizarding traditions? I know there are some classes, which don't start until third year, once we've got a thorough grounding of the basics…" She trailed off as Neville shook his head.

"So, technically, you and I are at a disadvantage when it comes to these matters." Harry added in smoothly.

"Yet you have some knowledge of them. I guess it was felt you would need to know, but for Muggleborns it isn't as necessary since they're unlikely to be moving in pureblood circles."

"Pureblood circles?" Hermione's eyes narrowed, "You mean to say all that aristocracy/nobility rubbish is still abound in the wizarding world?"

"It's still around in the Muggle world too, Hermione. It's just more prevalent here. An insular society, with little addition of new blood… it's stagnating and quite elitist. Even our governing bodies are so… and with the prejudice against other magical species and against half-humans it's only going to suffer more."

Hermione turned thoughtful, one hand playing with a lock of bushy hair. "So perhaps our club should be something different then, raising awareness? Though there's plenty of research we'd have to get done. Ways to improve the wizarding world? Though I suppose that will immediately limit our numbers to just us, and will the teachers really sponsor a club with only three members?" Before the boys could raise objections to the possible involvement of the faculty, she added, "With it endorsed by the teachers we'd have some token authority so that we could kick people out."

"Hermione, perhaps you should look into becoming the Minister of Magic or something." Harry suggested with a grin.

"That wouldn't be possible." Neville pointed out, "The position has to be held by a pureblood."

"What! That's… that's horrible! Why is there such stigma against Muggleborns?" Hermione seemed upset now.

"Because they're a threat to the current way of life. Those on top, want to stay on top, and they're the ones with the money and political sway." Harry stated darkly.

Neville looked at Harry somewhat aghast. "Ar-are you planning some sort of revolution?"

"A revolution! What a wonderful idea! Thank you Neville." The bushy haired girl bounced up from her seat and caught him in a hug.

"Er. I wasn't planning on one, but I think you'd best ask Hermione what her plans are."

"Right." Neville's tone was sarcastic, a rarity from the chubby boy. Then again, Hermione hadn't yet let go of him and was currently muttering about plans, and research and he thought he'd heard 'guillotine' in there. Gently releasing himself from her grasp, he softly asked her, "Is killing a good thing?"

Her reaction was immediate, "No! Of course not!"

"And how likely are we to have a peaceful revolution…?"

She visibly deflated. "Yes, well… I suppose the quickest way isn't always the best. We'll have to put in a puppet Minister and be the one's arranging things." She looked at Harry thoughtfully, "As the Boy Who Lived, your endorsement would be a good sell… Oh! Maybe you could be Minister?"

The two boys shook their heads. Harry gestured for Neville to explain.

"Harry's mother was muggleborn, as such he would be excluded, though an exception might have been made in his case if he'd been older when You-Know-Who was vanquished."

"Right, then you'll have to be Minister then." Hermione stated in a no-nonsense-manner.

Harry clasped Neville round the shoulder with a grin. "Congratulations on starting planning on your campaign for Minister, Neville," He remarked loudly, then quietly whispered into Neville's ear, "It's probably best for us to just go along with her… even if not you, Hermione's sure to find someone who'll agree in future."

Neville just nodded, a falsely bright smile on his face, as Hermione started writing up a list of things that needed to be done.

* * *

As the world faded into being, and the numbness left her limbs, Bella found herself staring up at an off-white ceiling listening to the scritch-scratch of a quill as it went across parchment. It continued on for a moment until she sighed softly. Then it stopped.

"How are you feeling?" Alphard sounded concerned, and dare she think it? A little amused?

"Fine," she told him, struggling to sit up. She was on a couch, in his study. A half finished letter of some sort lay on his desk, amidst a clutter of other papers.

He studied her face carefully, "You haven't changed all that much. I've just been filling in a Birth Certificate, I suspect you want to make sure your name is somewhat similar?"

"Isabella Black." Her voice was a little hoarse and she was pleasantly surprised to see him pouring her a glass of water.

"Here," he said handing her the glass. "Your chosen name works well, I can always claim I based it off Isla Black's name, and it would serve to show you don't hold with all that Muggle-killing rot."

The next thing he handed her was a mirror, and she swiftly steeled herself to view her new face. Which wasn't so new. Actually her eyes were a little wider; her hair was back to its rich black colour and texture, her skin as fair. There were only slight differences – her cheekbones were slightly higher, her nose a little pointier. She looked at Alphard wonderingly.

He shrugged. "I guess the Black blood runs true. You'll have to take care back in England. Act astonished the first time someone points out the resemblance to your former deranged cousin."

"Yes," her voice startled her, it was somewhat higher to her ear, and sounded softer, younger even. "Do I sound different to you?" She asked frowning.

He nodded, "That'll probably be something you're thankful for later. It's something that puts you apart from your other self. We'll finish the last of these papers and I'll have them put in the right places. You'll be Isabella Black, born in France to Alphard Black and a muggle woman who died at your birth. Raised in hiding."

"Yes, yes. I get the idea. I wonder what Harry will think of this."

Alphard glared at her. "Can you put your attention on the present difficulties rather than wondering what your little lost boy is going to think?"

"But of course, father," she said smiling sweetly. "You'll be dealing with all the paperwork and putting it in place, whilst I wander around Europe looking for a disembodied Dark Lord…"

He grimaced, before plastering a proud smile on his face, "How wonderful daughter. I trust you'll take care of yourself, it wouldn't do for my beloved only child to come to harm."

"Beloved only child?" she asked pointedly with a single arched brow.

He snorted in response. "And Bellatrix Black, dark witch, smiling sweetly and addressing her father in dulcet tones is any better? You'd best appreciate what I'm doing for you."

"Oh believe me. I do." Bella informed him solemnly. Then with a grin that displayed pure mischief she said, "I'll always appreciate you, Father."

"Brat." He sneered at her and was puzzled by her response, widened somewhat teary eyes. "Are you well?"

She laughed, "We were reminding me of myself and Harry."

"Is this where you say asinine things about wondering what he's up to and doing now? Really Bella…"

"Hmm" she idly murmured agreement as she stood and walked over to his desk to view the papers. She stared at one of the letters. "Is this?"

"Yes. A report of significant dark activity, though how reliable that is, given the location…"

"I see. I suppose I should get going soon then."

"I have some supplies you can use. A tent, compass… we'll package some food for you. Try to avoid any officials for a bit, so I have time to get your identity in place."

"Yes. I should probably travel Muggle style then." She agreed, and then sighed "I'm going to have to exchange some more money."

* * *

[AN: I realise Hermione seems a bit… ah extreme? But the girl has long term goals… and dedication… and I think the boys have realised it's best to have her working on something… Yes, Bella's off again. She can't be resting at Alphard's all the time. This is the longest chapter yet I believe… actually it went a bit off tangent… or rather later plot asserted itself in the present… or something. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it!

And I'm possibly evil for not mentioning Animagus at all… well it's all in Bella's hands there really… Where do you think she's off to actually?

(blinks) I haven't yet seen OotP… I reckon it's going to be odd seeing Bella… (makes note 'Silver, pay lots of attention during her scenes.') My muse is supposed to be going with me to see it… However my muse also seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth however…) sigh

And once more many thanks to everyone who reviewed!


	13. Chapter 12: Hallowe'en

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

* * *

CHAPTER TWELVE: Hallowe'en

"Now that you've learnt the wand movements and incantation, I'd like you to partner off and practice on these feathers. Remember just a gentle swish and flick." Professor Flitwick was giving instructions to the class.

Anthony Goldstein collected a feather for each of them, offering a grin as he slid into place beside Harry.

"Far better than Potions, eh Harry?"

Hermione and Neville who were the partners sitting next to them, seemed put out and sympathetic respectively.

"Far better… somehow I get the feeling Professor Snape isn't all that fond of me."

Anthony stifled a laugh at his response and Hermione seemed mollified by his answer, undoubtedly she still wasn't happy with any derision about those in authority… whereas Harry wasn't impressed with authority until they proved that they were worth it.

"It could be worse," Neville commiserated. "You could have ended up in Gryffindor. He'd like you even less then."

"So… are Longbottom and Potter allied?" Anthony said, attempting to be casual, but the way he sat confirmed his interest.

Neville's startled look and subsequent almost falling from his chair, gave the answer away, but Harry's sharp glance to Anthony shut the boy up before he could add anything else.

"This isn't the place for such conversations – I do believe we are meant to be practicing the levitation charm – _Wingardium Leviosa!_" The feather floated easily upwards and Flitwick quickly drew attention to it and him, but at least it drew attention away from what he didn't want widely known.

At the end of the class – Anthony suggested that they find a classroom to 'get to know each other better, foster inter-house relations, all that…' Harry felt rather chagrined that he'd under-estimated Anthony, who was now showing that he had an easy turn with manipulating other first years.

* * *

Isabella Black was currently stood, arms akimbo as she gazed upon one of the most infamous or famous forests in Europe, possibly the world, but the rest of the world only included the Americas and they didn't really compare… Africa had Egypt of course and all the wizardry that came with, but the north of that continent had long had relations with Europe. Really when it came down to it, Europe had more of wizarding culture – some theorists were saying the supposed 'centre' of the wizarding world would soon move to the Americas, just as power had had a general shift westwards in the Muggle world, though most scoffed at the idea.

The forest many thought about in fairy tale. The Black Forest, Schwarzwald. In actuality, it was a rather pretty forest, with dappled patches of sunlight peaking through green leaves and needles. In fact, it was appallingly picturesque, considering that all the fairy tales that had come before did have some grain of truth within them. The werewolf of the Muggle tale 'Little Red Riding Hood', the transfigurations cast on twelve brothers to turn them into wild swans, even House Elves who had made shoes – helping out an old cobbler. The magical section of the forest, Unplottable, and warded from Muggle eyes, was far more dangerous – if only for the magical trees and shrubs contained within.

Still, it was somewhat of a tourist trap – for wizards as well as Muggles, which is why she was doubtful for any clue towards the Dark Lord's location. The report of so-called 'Dark' activity was probably something minor, plenty loved to tell of how they'd faced terrifying beasts in the Black Forest, but once you looked into the details you found the speakers had first availed themselves to liquid courage in some form or another before venturing out at night and being spooked by the wind in the trees, or any number of nocturnal creatures.

"Ist dies Ihr erster Besuch, gnädige Frau?" A tall brown haired man, in dark trousers, blue polo shirt and a waistcoat of all things, was addressing her. From his looks she'd say he was a wizard, especially after taking into account the fact she hadn't heard him approach. A portkey, perhaps?

However, her language lessons hadn't included German, and her translation charms had never been very good.

"Er… Ich spreche nicht Deutsch," She stumbled over the words, learnt courtesy of a phrase book of all things. "aber ich kann Englisch und Französisch sprechen."

The man laughed, "Your German is not so bad."

"Thank you, but I can barely string together two phrases. Your English is very good though."

"Is this your first trip here?"

"Yes… and you? Do you live around here?"

"Actually no, I'm here as part of my work."

"Oh, what work do you do? I usually teach A-level French at a sixth form college back home." It was a shame, Bella thought, either the Muggle references were going over his head, or his grasp of English wasn't quite enough – so far he could be either wizard or Muggle, though she leaned towards the former.

"Ah, I work in… it's something like your police." He offered with a smile.

An Auror then, or… her fancies took her for a moment, an agent for one of those secret Muggle agencies – the MIA, the MIB? Or was it CI5? Anyway, how did she manage to meet an Auror first thing?

"I'm Klaus Krüger." He gave a belated introduction, offering his hand.

"And I'm Isabella Black." She said whilst shaking his hand firmly.

"Black, like the forest." He said with a smile. "Well, Miss Black, I must be off to my duties now."

"It was nice meeting you, Herr Krüger."

With the possible Auror striding off, Bella once more surveyed the forest. Map in hand, with Alphard's scrawl annotating several sections, she set off.

* * *

"What did you mean by Longbottom and Potter being allied?" Hermione's first question was directed at Anthony, who now seemed somewhat unnerved by her intense focus upon him.

"He meant that House Longbottom and House Potter are allies – since Harry and I are the Heads of our respective Houses… our families… meaning we agreed to be friends and shook on it… which means that the rest of our families are obligated to offer help to each other if needed or asked. Not that that means much since Harry is the last Potter."

Their reactions were varied – Hermione seemed pensive, whilst Anthony was rather shocked at Neville offering up the information, it not being expected from the quiet boy. Harry, for his part, was relieved that he wouldn't have to offer an explanation and possibly evoke questions as to how he knew about pureblood traditions.

"I see." Came Hermione's eloquent answer.

Harry wasn't able to stifle the snicker, which led to looks from the others.

"Sorry, it's just that has to be the least I've ever heard you say."

Hermione flushed and looked about to argue with him, but Neville interrupted, "I understand you like her, but that's no reason to tease her so."

Harry stared at Neville, agreeing wholeheartedly with Hermione's cry of "What!"

Neville only grinned in response.

It was Anthony who then took up the challenge, "You lot have to be the most socially inept eleven year olds I have ever had the pleasure of meeting… what do your friends back home think of you!"

The blush on Hermione's cheeks, Neville's hanging head and Harry's sarcastic eyebrow raise – told him what they weren't saying in words.

"Merlin." He sounded somewhere between shock and horror, "You lot don't have any friends from before Hogwarts?"

Hermione opened her mouth to make her defence, but Harry grabbed her hand to stop her and spoke instead, "Well in Hermione's case I would reason that there was no one who refused to be intimidated by her intellect and ability to memorise written text, in Neville's case – none who understood the virtue in being able to be calm and enjoying useful pursuits such as Herbology, and in mine…"

Hermione and Neville seemed flattered by his claims, though rather doubtful of the veracity of all he said.

"And in yours…" Anthony prompted.

"My cousin insured that none of the other primary school children would befriend me. We don't really get along."

"Surely you had some friends," insisted Hermione, "Your cousin couldn't possibly of made everyone turn against you."

Harry was internally fuming at Hermione, he wanted the matter to drop… he had a friend after all… "Well one, if you count my babysitter." Harry had a sour look on his face, as if he hadn't wished to say it – which to the others was understandable, what eleven-year-old wants to make note of the fact they have a babysitter?

* * *

_Oops_, was the first thing that rang through her mind. Bella honestly hadn't meant to attack the first person she came across. On the other hand, she felt rather pleased at her reflexes – a smooth quick draw of her wand, and an almost instinctive silent casting of the Stunning spell. The trio of spells that sped towards her, as soon as her victim thudded to the ground, weren't so pleasing. She swiftly sidestepped the first two, and batted away the third, sending a spell of her own, trying to keep from taunting her unknown assailants. She ducked another spell before crouching over the downed man, swiftly giving him a once over. He didn't look particularly threatening, but she knew better to judge on appearances.

With her wand to his throat, she called out to the others,"Who are you? I have your friend, so I suggest you show yourselves!" before belatedly adding softly, "or find someone who can translate English."

The voice that responded seemed unsure, "Miss Black?"

She sighed to herself, if possible Auror Herr Krüger was an actual Auror then that meant she'd probably attacked Aurors, who would be within their rights to arrest her.

"Herr Krüger, I had wondered if you were a wizard or not." She said as the aforementioned man strode into view with two younger wizards, one shorter and blond, the other dark-haired and rangy. She classified the dark-haired one to be the greater threat of the two.

"Indeed. I had believed you to be Muggle after hearing your occupation. There have been some strange reports in the area, so I would say it is not safe, but your reflexes are very good."

She smiled brightly at the compliment – it wouldn't hurt to try Cissa's methods of getting along, but she wasn't stupid, she stayed crouched by the unconscious man with her wand in hand. "Thank you Herr Krüger. I presume you and your companions are Aurors then?"

"Ja. The man you currently ah… threaten is an Auror as well." He looked at her expectantly.

Her smile this time showed teeth, "I'd like to see some proof that you are Aurors."

The younger men seemed irritated at this, shuffling about and casting dark looks in her direction. Krüger merely nodded in approval and produced a badge. "Hier is my badge."

It looked like the real thing, and if they were the source of the troubles in the area then they'd have continued casting despite a hostage. Well… it was what she would do… unless it were Harry… or Narcissa or Alphard…maybe Andy? Not for Andy's brat though or Cissa's.

She rose gracefully to her feet, a muttered_ Ennervate_ had the fourth man blearily opening his eyes and cradling his head.

"I apologise for the misunderstanding Aurors. If that is all?"

"There is no harm done. Please be careful in the area, though there is a…" he paused for a moment as if debating word choice, "…a considered expert in Dark matters. He is a countryman of yours."

Bella kept the frown off her face, "I'm afraid I'm not greatly familiar with the Aurors back home."

"He is no Auror!" the darker haired Auror spat. "He pokes his nose where he shouldn't."

Bella was visibly taken aback at the outburst. Who was this person that he should garner such a response?

* * *

"Harry! Aren't you going to the Feast?" Goldstein was asking the question, and Harry saw Neville and Hermione approaching them, where they stood just outside the entrance to the Great Hall, both the Gryffindors had smiles upon their faces.

"No. I'm not particularly fond of celebrating this… holiday." It was true, the past few years, they'd held a small remembrance for his parents, but since he'd learnt it was the anniversary of their death; he certainly hadn't believed in celebrating it. Bella wracking her brains to think of stories to tell him about his parents… which mainly involved her younger cousin, Sirius, who had been one of his father's best friends and possibly their eventual betrayer – something Bella wasn't sure about, though he had blown up a street full of Muggles. Given how Harry had first-hand knowledge that people can and did change, it made accepting that this Sirius had at one time been a friend of his father's a lot easier.

Anthony looked at him doubtfully before shrugging and making his way towards the Ravenclaw table.

The other two had caught the last of what he'd said and Neville looked at him, concerned. "Is… do you do anything special then?" He asked hesitantly.

Hermione looked confused momentarily, before her eyes brightened as she realised the significance of the date.

"I think about them, what they'd think – I'd like to know more about them though, my aunt doesn't like to hear about my parents though."

"You could try asking the teachers," Hermione suggested, "They probably taught your parents."

Neville made a noise of agreement, before adding, "It might be a bit awkward asking, but they'd no doubt be pleased to be asked."

"I'll do it." Harry agreed, wondering why he hadn't thought of it himself. "Do you want to grab some food from the feast and we can go back to that classroom of ours… I found a colouring charm for walls, so we could start decorating it."

"That sounds like a great idea, but don't you think we should ask for permission…" Hermione trailed off, at Harry's raised brow, and gamely continued, "…though it probably wouldn't take much to put the room back to the way it was… so I don't suppose it matters."

It didn't take long to grab a few pastries and cakes and tie them in an enlarged handkerchief. Hermione deftly shrunk a pitcher of pumpkin juice along with a few glasses, and Harry was quick to follow her example and after grabbing a platter of roast potatoes, added pieces of chicken, lamb and a few selections of vegetables before shrinking the lot. Their actions went unnoticed thanks to the hustle and noise of the Hallowe'en Feast, which was far greater than the usual dinner rush.

Settling into the disused classroom they'd claimed for themselves took longer. Neville had the bright idea of enlarging the handkerchief further to act as a tablecloth across the teacher's desk. After that it was simply a matter of unshrinking the various foodstuffs they'd brought and then tucking into the spread of food laid out before them.

* * *

The consensus seemed to be vampires. Rogue vampires, tired of the restrictions placed upon them by the Ministries and having turned to more pleasurable pursuits. Their idea of sport was chasing down Muggles, Squibs or the odd wizard or witch – through the forest to make it more interesting. Bella could see the appeal; it was more fun to toy with your prey especially when you knew it couldn't escape you. She hadn't met the English 'expert' yet, but given how little the others cared for him, it was probably better not to bring him up.

Night had fallen, and the two young Aurors, Hirsch and Richter, were further warding their camp. She felt something was missing, vampires weren't an easy foe, but even a score could fall to a team of determined wizards – so why hadn't they? It left two probable possibilities – one, the vampires had wizards working with them, or two, the German Aurors weren't very good, or at least not good enough. It didn't bode well that they sent two rookie Aurors, either they were talented and this was supposed to be an easy job, or they had no one else to send. Following the advice of 'always be prepared', once in her tent she donned the second-hand dragon-hide Alphard had managed to scrounge up for her. Chinese Fireball for a garish vest that hung loose and was cut for a man, one wrist-guard of Antipodean Opaleye and Hungarian Horntail for sensible black boots that she'd had tailored. She already had an array of personal wards set on her tent, and so feeling as secure as she could make herself - she drifted into sleep.

BZZT!

Bella was awake in an instant, an electric shock triggered by her wards being breached. She scrambled for her wand, and a Disillusionment charm later; she was exiting the tent and wishing she had better night vision, or at least the knowledge of a night-vision charm.

A voice came from behind her, unintelligible German, spoken too fast for her to catch. She spun clockwise targeting her wand towards the voice, only to feel the impact of a blade along her forearm, thanking the Opaleye, which left her uninjured.

"Flagello flammatus!" A long whip of fire unfurled from her wand, lighting up the night, revealing the trio surrounding her. A wizard and two vampires, and whilst she had hit the wizard, who now seemed to be giggling rather insanely, the two vampires remained unharmed.

Vampire 1, as she dubbed him mentally, spat at her in German, but she was already casting her spell-whip in his direction, his speed however allowed him time to get out of reach. A sudden sting on her cheek, and the accompanying feeling of wet let her know she'd been cut, on her face – her face. Even Cissa who hated duelling would be willing to let loose at such a point, and Bella wasn't about to disappoint.

She bared her teeth in a wild grin, and for the first time, in a long time, she was really able to unleash her vicious side.

* * *

CRASH!

The sound brought all three children's heads up.

"What was that!" Hermione's exclamation was shrill and the continuing thuds, increasing in loudness only added to their unease.

"Do you think we should take a look?" Neville asked, who had turned a rather pasty shade.

Harry was about to tell them no, that it would be better to wait safe and inside, since it sounded like footsteps, that is, if the footsteps belonged to a creature that was very, very heavy; he didn't get the chance, since Hermione had already opened the door and now stood stock-still at whatever sight had greeted her eyes.

She slammed the door shut after what had seemed like ages, his heart thudding in his chest.

"Troll." She said weakly as she moved to join the two boys at the desk where they'd been having their own private feast. "Mountain troll." She reiterated.

CRACK!

The door burst open under the attack, the doorframe splintering and throwing a few shards of wood towards them. It wasn't easy to see much beyond the troll standing in the doorway, large club in hand. It growled.

Neville was whimpering slightly, Hermione seemed to be mumbling facts about trolls, whilst Harry was frantically trying to think of a spell to use against a troll.

"Hermione! What can we use against a troll? They're immune to stunners!" He hissed.

"I… there are three types of troll; mountain, river and forest. This one's a mountain troll. I don't know any more! In Muggle fiction some turn to stone in sunlight, but…"

"LUMOS!" The light emanating from Harry's wand was almost too bright to look at, and the troll bellowed in pain at the sight.

"Of course, they're generally cave-dwellers and venture out at night mostly, so their eyes are photosensitive." Hermione spoke dazedly.

The troll was now lumbering towards the group of children, swinging its club at the source of its pain. Harry separated from the others, the troll easily moving the heavy club in his direction.

"Harry!" Hermione cried out.

"More facts, Hermione! Is there anything else we can use?" Neville's voice was tremulous but faintly acerbic.

"Their skin's too tough to easily penetrate, and magic-resistant."

"Muggle means then, blunt trauma." Harry gasped from where he was busily backing away and dodging the debris from the various damaged desks.

"Blunt trauma," Hermione repeated thoughtfully, looking around. "What can we use to knock it out?"

"Oh. Oh! The club!" Neville shouted, bringing the troll's attention over to the two of them.

"The club?" Harry said confused at the seeming non sequitur. His eyes widened in realisation.

"Children!" The cry came from the doorway, where Professors McGonagall and Snape, stood along with the Headmaster, expressions ranging from concern and worry to a severe anger. The cry had come from McGonagall.

* * *

"Sectumsempra!" The curse, unfamiliar to these foreign wizards, was a wonderful thing. Eyes alight with joy, Bella watched as the wizard's shield crumbled before her spell and she followed it with a softly whispered 'Reducto'. Warm blood rain fell upon her face, and everyone seemed to freeze, staring at the blissful woman in their midst.

"I really missed this, you know." She said conversationally, to her onlookers.

"She's insane." She wasn't sure who said it, but she would bet it was Hirsch, the young blond Auror. At least it was said in an awed, if accented, tone.

"Miss Black?" concern, from Auror Krüger. It did offer an amusing idea though.

"Please, Auror Krüger, call me Bella." Her voice turned a little throaty as she said her name. She smiled up at her opponents, slowly blinking heavy-lidded eyes.

"Bella Black?" one of the remaining wizards all but squeaked, before backing away from her slowly.

"Aw, come little wizard. Don't give up now." She smiled as she crooned the words, "We were just beginning to have some fun."

"I think you will find that we are the ones who are about to have some fun." The cold tones belonged to one of the vampires.

Her response was to wave her wand, in a practiced, if long ago used action. The resulting fire, licked hungrily towards the vampire.

He scoffed, "Did you not see, little witch, we have protections against your fire spells!"

"Even Fiendfyre?" Darkly amused tones answered back, as she released her hold on the spell.

* * *

The three of them were escorted to the Hospital Wing by Professor McGonagall after having to give an account of why they hadn't been present in the Great Hall for the feast. Snape had sneered when Harry had said they'd wanted to have a small quiet meal, and the other two professors hadn't looked entirely convinced either. Either way, they were each docked 10 house points and admonished for not attending the feast, though Professor McGonagall seemed somewhat sympathetic towards them.

After being treated for their various scrapes and bruises – Harry had a nasty gash on his right forearm, which had Madame Pomfrey shaking her head, and the two boys suffering through hugs from Hermione, they left together, chatting as they went.

"I thought we were going to die!" Hermione gushed. "Or at least end up seriously injured…" she concluded more calmly. "But you two were brilliant – if you hadn't thought of using the club, and you hadn't cast the charm…"

"I'm sure the Professors would have stopped it before we could come to harm, Hermione." Harry pointed out, "but it's better that we were able to take care of it ourselves, and it's nice to know that the things we learn in class can be practically applied to daily life."

Neville, who up to that point had stayed quiet, snorted. "Yes, Harry. Daily life usually involves meeting up with fully grown mountain trolls intent on crushing you to death."

Three gazes met, and they laughed.

"I can't wait 'til we learn conjuration. I mean, imagine if we'd been outside – a more likely place to meet a troll, and it didn't have a handy club to knock it out with."

"In that case," Harry said mock-thoughtfully, still elated from their brush with death, "I should like to conjure an anvil, a grand piano, and a safe."

"Why?" Neville's usually good-natured face was scrunched up in confusion.

Hermione and Harry sighed in unison, commenting only "Purebloods."

"Ah, so it's one of those Muggle things then." The other boy decided.

Then, "Wait. Muggles drop pianos on people?"

* * *

The air was gritty with ash. The clearing they'd pitched their tents in, was now a good deal larger. Luckily the German Aurors were familiar with a spell that could magically dampen cursed fires, something she'd never seen an English equivalent of. A fact that had startled them, considering her use of the incredibly dangerous Fiendfyre, which had swiftly evolved into separate fire entities – a dragon, an oversized eagle and a snake that had reminded her greatly of Nagini. On the bright side, the vampire threat was gone, and the wizards in league with them were now bound or in the case of one, dead. On the other hand, she now had to face up to what she'd done in front of Aurors no less.

"Your duelling skills are very impressive Miss Black, though somewhat dangerous." Krüger paused, uncertainty writ in his posture.

Bella sighed and went with her cover, "Bellatrix Lestrange was my cousin, and it happens that we shared certain physical similarities, enough to fool someone who'd never met the other before."

"It must be very difficult for you back home then." Richter's tone was thoughtful.

She smiled sadly at the dark young Auror, "I don't spend much time in the Wizarding World."

Krüger and the other older Auror, Herman, she thought his name was were discussing something, probably her, she thought with a slight despondency.

"Miss Black," it was Hirsch, and he addressed her in respectful tones.

She interrupted him, "Bella, please."

He grinned, "Bella. Then I am Sigi. Thank you for your help." He bobbed his head, blond hair falling into his face, still smiling.

Richter snorted at his fellow's actions. "He has… what is it called… ah, a crush on you I think. Hero worship?"

She was surprised to feel herself blush, "It wasn't anything big. I mean, I didn't even think what would happen if the fire couldn't be contained!"

"Yes. That is true." Krüger voiced his agreement, "but you are not an Auror, and not… used to such situations. It was good what you did."

"It was good, Ja." Herman allowed "But we will still need a statement from you."

"Of course."

"Richter will take your statement I think." The man said eyeing Sigi's disappointment with amusement.

* * *

[AN: Once more, I apologise for the lateness of this chapter…I also apologise for not answering reviews... I'm afraid I got hideously sidetracked in RL :S I have tried to answer some of the questions below...

As to Dark Magic within this story - here it is according to Bella, 'Magic which is fuelled/powered by emotion' so even something like the Patronus, she would consider as Dark Magic though legal and useful, if you're around Dementors... but it's something that not many people can do anyway, and most wouldn't be casting it often (aside from canon!Harry)...

I can't believe it's been over a year since I started either… wow. Another thing, is anyone willing to beta-read this story? Or suggestions on where to find one? It's become a bit harder for me to find time to find time to proofread, and nothing beats someone else's eyes…

Other things: I have never been to Germany My muse has, and she owes me some pics that she took… The German Aurors are not based on anyone and are named with the help of and a article on German surnames and their meanings…

Aurors: Klaus Krüger, Ernst (seriousness) Herman (warrior/soldier), Siegbert (bright victory) 'Sigi' Hirsch (buck), Winfried (friend of peace) Richter (judge).

Sigi is apparently a nickname for those with names beginning with 'Sieg'.

Apologies for any mistakes in the German.

MIA, MIB, CI5… I like Bella not knowing things about Muggles… getting acronyms muddled? Not so surprising… MI5/CIA – you can see where she's getting the mix-up…

Vampires: actually they're mentioned in conjunction with Quirrel and the Black Forest… Plus I needed something that was a bit more intimidating than Rowling's Erklings…

Flagello flammatus: My attempt at altering Latin… hopefully translates to something like 'fire whip'. The wizard giggling after being hit – Flame freezing charm, like Wendelin…

Sectumsempra & Fiendfyre: Why non-English wizards/magical beings wouldn't be familiar with these – Sectumsempra was invented by the Half-Blood Prince, so they have no reason to know it, Bella may know it though. Fiendfyre strikes me as a more English spell, since according to the HP lexicon fyre is from the Old English - 'fyr'. I'm sure there's a German equivalent… but maybe that's a more restricted spell in Germany… who knows?

Being different from canon: I said this would differ from the books and maybe it doesn't seem to be diverging much so far… but it will continue to... I am sometimes overly logical (in odd ways) which means I chose 2-3 main alterations from canon... everything else builds off of that.  
Neville taking the place in the 'Trio': I get that it may seem that way... I just don't think Harry likes Hermione all that much though... and he will never be able to be as close to Neville and Hermione as canon-Harry was to his friends...  
Bella's Animagus… it didn't get a mention again. Y'know people have such good ideas… probably better than mine (is chagrined), thankfully I'm made of stern stuff and will keep to my not-so-good-idea since it is what I need… and it fits nicely in my head

**My Question: Who do you think the English wizard 'expert' is?**

_Translations: (thank you to lila for correcting me on these... though I didn't take all her suggestions)  
_

'_Is this your first visit here, Ma'am.' _

'_I don't speak German, but I can speak English and French."_

Danke. Grazie. Gracias. Merci. Thank you: To everyone who was kind enough to review.

P.S. I think I had far too much fun with the 'CRASH! CRACK! BZZT!'


	14. Chapter 13: Interviews & Interrogations

Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in some events.

* * *

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Interviews and Interrogations

Harry sat cross-legged on his bed, curtains drawn around him, thinking about the events of Hallowe'en. Thankfully Friday's classes hadn't included either Potions or Transfiguration so he hadn't had to come face to face with either of the Professors who'd witnessed the aftermath of the incident. They had been extremely lucky to have encountered the troll and come out unscathed. However, he'd long ago decided that luck didn't exist – it was manipulation of circumstances, whether from attitude or magic. Hermione's knowledge and then being able to apply that knowledge, had saved them, once they'd got past the panicking stage that is. He fingered his pendant wondering at the possibilities Hallowe'en could have resulted in, three students dead for one. How had a mountain troll entered the school? All Harry knew for certain was that Professor Quirrell had been the one to sound the alarm, promptly fainting in the Great Hall afterwards and that it had been thanks to Goldstein that the teachers had been notified that Harry wasn't at the feast, with no mention of Hermione or Neville. He sighed, Hogwarts wasn't living up to its reputation as 'safe' and he couldn't help but turn his thoughts to Bella to wonder how she was doing, hunting for a Dark Lord wasn't likely to be very safe either.

* * *

She gazed at herself in the mirror, a faint white line was all that remained of the curse that had sliced her cheek, and it would soon fade. She'd already rinsed the remaining blood from her face and hair, which hung limply around her face. At least the blood washed away easily enough, it was unfortunate about her robes though, since they would have to be burned. There were, of course, spells to clean off blood, but she only knew one that was particularly effective; and that sadly, like a fair number of the spells she was most familiar with, was a restricted spell.

She waved her wand over her hair, pleased that the German Aurors had allowed her use of their shower facilities. She wouldn't have wanted to stay bloodstained during her interrogation, which would take place later. Blood itched when it dried and waiting until this morning before getting round to washing her hair hadn't been such a good idea. It always took a while for the water to penetrate through to where the blood had dripped across her scalp, but it was better than the alternative. She'd always been proud of her locks, and she was not about to cut it all off.

A tapping caught her attention. Something, most likely an owl, was tapping at the window – the window that was placed high up on the wall, making her grateful that she was a witch with a wand. After opening the window, a letter was darted through. Creamy parchment, addressed to Isabella. It was from Alphard. She'd open it later, she couldn't afford the distraction before an interrogation.

* * *

"Harry, my dear boy. Have a seat." The Headmaster's tone was friendly, a welcome twinkle in his eyes. "Lemon drop?" He asked, offering a dish full of the citrus sweets.

Harry sat, uncomfortable being in the Headmaster's Office and nearly being swallowed by the chintz armchair, but not knowing how he could make his excuses and leave. "Um. No. Thank you Headmaster."

"Ah, well. More for myself then." Dumbledore said brightly, "Now, Harry. I have a few questions to follow up about the incident on Hallowe'en."

Harry nodded distractedly, he was being careful not to look directly at the Headmaster for too long, not that it was a hard task when the office was filled with such fascinating things. Strange silver devices whirred and moved, portraits of snoozing former Headmasters covered the walls, a stand for an absent bird stood in the corner, but it was the shelves lined with books that kept drawing his attention.

"Right then," Dumbledore began in a bemused tone, "Would you mind stating the events of Hallowe'en, from when you decided not to go to the Feast?"

"No," Harry drawled slightly, with possibly more than a hint of mischief. He witnessed an ever so slight tightening of the skin around the elder wizard's eyes, before once more averting his own eyes. "Well… I was standing outside the Great Hall, I was planning to go in and grab something to eat and leave with it – probably wander 'til I found somewhere to eat, or go back to my dorm. Then Anthony asked me, er, Anthony Goldstein that is, if I was going to the Feast. I told him I wasn't, which was when Neville and Hermione came up, they inquired about my response and in the end decided they'd spend the evening with me."

The Headmaster interrupted his narrative with a question, "Why did you not wish to attend the feast?"

Harry was taken aback, "It… I…" He bowed his head slightly, unsure how to begin. "Hallowe'en is the anniversary of my parents' deaths," his voice was barely above a whisper, "I didn't feel like celebrating the day with lots of people."

* * *

"Don't worry, Miss Black. This is a fairly standard process." Richter reassured her, seeing her nervous glances around the Auror offices, fairly bustling, but each smaller office cubicle seemed Silenced.

She smiled faintly, "Please, call me Bella."

He nodded, "Very well. Bella. If you would hand over your wand – to be examined and then we shall talk about what happened."

"My wand?" Her fingers itched to hold it and keep holding it, but she slowly drew it from her holster and offered it over with care.

"Thank you Miss… Bella. I will have Hirsch take it to be examined, he will not let anything happen to it."

Sigi confirmed this with an enthusiastic "It will be as safe as I can make him!" as he gently took her hand, before relieving her of her wand. "You will find me in Evidence." The last word is said carefully, and she smiles at him.

Richter continued, "And you need not worry about being attacked here." He paused and shuffled through the mess of papers on his desk. "Right, ah, would you like anything to drink or eat before we begin?"

"Ah, maybe later." Bella replied, not willing to find herself drugged though the thought of food was especially tempting since she hadn't eaten much since the fight on Hallowe'en.

"So, will you tell me how you came to be in the Forest?"

"Holiday. Well, I usually teach French, but I ended up quitting so I could see to my father who called me back home." She paused, thinking through her words, "At any rate he offered to fund a trip through Europe for me, and I thought it would be fun to travel as a Muggle and see the sights. I'm planning to go onwards to Austria after this," she confided in him, feeling it was a safe bet as far as places went.

The dark-haired Auror nodded, taking notes as she spoke.

"Well… everyone's heard of the Black Forest – even if only from the cake. I went to the Muggle part first, which is very pretty and that's where I met Herr Krüger. We spoke for a little while, I thought he might be a wizard but I wasn't sure. Um… let's see." She leaned back in her chair thinking about that day's events. "I continued to wander around the Forest, I found a clearing to have a picnic lunch in the Muggle part. Then I decided to start exploring the Wizarding side… where I was startled by um… Auror Herman, was it?"

He grinned at the memory, "Yes, that is his name."

"Well I stunned him, silently." She closed her eyes, trying to remember what happened next. "There was some trading of spells, I'm not sure how many, but I got to Auror Herman and…"

"Yes, you had him as a hostage. The rest I know, how about after – when our camp was attacked?"

* * *

Something seems wrong. The Headmaster has offered tea and biscuits while they chat. Harry's been nervously sipping at the tea, trying to gather time to put his thoughts together. It doesn't seem to be working, if anything his head feels a little lighter and he keeps saying more than he means to, as if the filter between brain and mouth has been Vanished. It would explain some of the other students though – he hopes it isn't infectious.

"Is anything wrong, my boy?"

"I was wondering if missing the brain-mouth filter was infectious and that it would explain some of the students, only how do I stop it from affecting me, is there a cure?" The Headmaster looks puzzled, but there is a slight twinkle of amusement there as well. Better than the reactions of suspicion he's previously had.

* * *

They were interrupted as Bella got talking about the spells she had used – Sectumsempra and Fiendfyre. There was some commotion at the entrance, a blond wizard in peacock blue robes and a large bright smile was entering and approaching their way.

Richter's face screwed up in distaste. "What is he doing here?"

"You know him?" Bella asked in surprise, "Who is he? He looks somewhat familiar…" She trailed off as Richter laughed.

"He is Gilderoy Lockhart, member of the Dark Force Defence League. I believe he has written a number of books, though the man is…" He stopped mid-sentence as the man entered his small office space.

"The 'expert', you mentioned before." Bella continued smoothly, getting confirmation in a swift nod.

"Auror Richter! And who might this charming witch be?" The man oozed false flattery and she fought the desire to say something scathing as he took her hand and pressed a kiss to it.

"Isabella Black." She announced her name sharply, with emphasis on 'Black'.

"Ah, and I, as you may already know, am Gilderoy Lockhart." He puffed out his chest as he spoke, and she caught Richter glowering at the man from the corner of her eye.

"Ahem," Richter coughed to draw Lockhart's attention away from her. "May I ask what you are doing here, Mr. Lockhart?"

"Why merely to offer some of my expertise, and see how your methods compare with my own. It was certainly some good luck that you Aurors managed to get them all in one night!"

Richter gave a predatory smile, "Ah, but you see Miss Black is the one responsible for the 'getting' of the ones we were after."

Lockhart's good humour faded for a moment before he rallied and with another blinding smile, offered, "Why then, Miss Black, allow me to invite you for lunch. No doubt it will be better than remaining here for the afternoon."

"I have to finish giving my statement –

"I'm sure Auror Richter will be happy to wait!" The wizard was offering her, his arm, and she looked towards Richter with an expression of 'get me out of this mess'.

"Of course. Miss Black, has not yet had lunch, so this is a good opportunity." Richter all but shooed them out of the office. He cast an apologetic look at her, but it was obvious that he was more thankful to have Lockhart out of his way. "And we are finished with the interview."

"Fine." Bella huffed, annoyed at the idea of spending time with the blond buffoon. Her fingers twitched at the thought of cursing him. "But we need to stop by and pick up my wand from Sigi, in Evidence."

"Of course, my dear." Blue eyes gleamed, and Bella had a moment of foreboding before brushing it off. After all what kind of threat could this overdressed peacock possibly offer?

* * *

Professor Snape has joined them, and it's worrying because Harry never noticed him enter the office. The lightheaded feeling is getting to him, it's actually Snape's quick reflexes that catch the teacup before it falls from his suddenly lax fingers.

"I believe the Veritaserum has taken effect, Headmaster." Snape's smooth tones wash over him. Distantly Harry knows he should be alarmed. Veritaserum – truth serum – is a restricted substance by the Ministry of Magic, and Harry is a minor, and he has secrets, which he isn't going to think about.

The first question starts simply.

_What is your name? _Harry Potter.

(Harry is pretty sure this is just to check that he's under the influence of the potion.)

_Where did you learn Occlumency? _ I haven't.

(And he hasn't – he's barely skimmed the basics, he can hardly say he's learnt it. Read about it and practiced a little, but learnt it? Not yet.)

_Why didn't you attend the Feast?_ I didn't want to be with people celebrating a day that to me will always be the day my parents died.

(No truth fudging there)

_How did you defeat the troll? _Hermione's knowledge of its weaknesses and us applying our knowledge.

(He'd been thinking about this earlier. It's an easy question to answer.)

_What knowledge did Miss Granger provide, and how did you apply it to defeat the troll?_ Hermione said they were cave-dwellers and didn't like light – I used an over-powered Lumos charm to distract it. She told us it was magically resistant, so magic wouldn't work, but blunt force would. Neville levitated its club over its head and knocked it out.

(It's what happened, though they were there for the last bit.)

_How are you able to protect your mind from Legilimency?_ I don't know.

(Truth - he doesn't know... he could give a few well-educated guesses, but ultimately - being able to protect his mind from Legilimency? He doesn't know.)

* * *

They were walking down one of the many corridors, Lockhart chatting inanely at her, trying to involve her in conversation about the events of Hallowe'en.

"I suppose you do this type of thing fairly often then," he beamed at her, "some kind of Law Enforcement yourself? Hitwitch?" He frowned momentarily, no doubt finding the phrasing as odd as she did herself.

She shook her head, "Oh no. I teach French." She paused to give her next words more emphasis. "To Muggles."

"B-but how did you manage to…" He trailed off at the smirk she gave him.

"I am a Black, after all." She drawled in what she thought was a passable imitation of her brother-in-law, the blond annoying one that is, though admittedly she hadn't spent any considerable amount of non-hostile time with Andy's husband. Still, it was satisfying to see the peacock pale as he finally came to understand her name and what it meant in Wizarding circles.

The rest of the walk out of the Auror buildings passed in silence.

Outside, it was a horrifically sunny day for November, really where were the clouds and winds and rain? Still, she shielded her eyes with a hand, gazing around the town.

"Ahem," coughed the peacock.

She lowered her hand and offered him a glance. "Hmm?"

"I know a lovely little restaurant – it's just this way. Really great food and atmosphere – they

certainly know how to treat a celebrity." He puffed up his chest, and she couldn't help but think 'Men.'

He led the way to the restaurant, down a narrow side street which opened out into a somewhat bare and desolate square. She was already uneasy, a restaurant situated in an empty square with none of the expected lunchtime bustle was not aiding her paranoia.

"I know it doesn't appear like much, they're much more popular in the evenings – a little too out of the way for anyone but tourists to lunch here I suppose." The man bubbled on.

A small wooden door was the entrance which opened to a short flight of stairs downwards. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise when he gestured for her to go in front of him, but she did so anyway. Curiosity was driving her forward and her own Black stubbornness. He didn't attack her from behind, but she felt much more at ease when he stood, not at her back, but beside her - enthusiastically greeting the waiter who had come to seat them.

* * *

"Harry?" the Headmaster is close, too close. Harry blinks sleepy eyes, and realises he's still in the Headmaster's office. He... fell asleep?

"Right, my boy, seems a few too many biscuits and an old man's company will always send the younger generation to sleep." The Headmaster's eyes are twinkling, and it sends a slight feeling of unease through Harry.

He can feel his cheeks heat, "I'm sorry if I fell asleep. It... only seemed a moment." He can't bring himself to say he fell asleep, he doesn't feel like he did. He remembers trying to avoid the Headmaster's eyes, and the question of why he would want to miss the Hallowe'en feast, everything after that seems... muted.

"It's quite alright, though perhaps you'll want to join your friends."

Harry nods, still thoughtful. "Er, thanks Headmaster." He makes his leave and once past the Gargoyle, he's sprinting to where he's previously agreed to meet the two Gryffindors. The Hallowe'en classroom.

"Harry!" Neville calls out. He and Hermione are sat as if reading through textbooks, but there are scraps of parchment between them – vague sketches of anvils and pianos on them. "Hermione has been explaining Muggle entertainment."

Hermione is frowning at him, "Harry, are you alright? You're not in any trouble are you?" Her tone gets more anxious.

"I'm fine. No trouble. Yet." He clutches at his pendant as he says it.

"Harry – what's that?" Hermione asks, curious as ever.

"Oh it was a gift." He looks down at it, only to gasp. The clean silver surface is now blackened and tarnished. Neville stands to have a closer look.

"Isn't that... a charm against mind magics?" Neville begins, and quickly explains before Hermione can even open her mouth to ask, "Mind magics are things which effect the mind – like memory charms, Legilimency – which allows you to pick up people thoughts, even the Imperius curse which is an Unforgivable allowing you to control another person." His tone darkens as he continues. "That charm looks as if it's burnt out."

"Goodness, Harry! You've gone all pale." Hermione exclaims, but from her own rapid paling, he knows she's figured it out.

"I've only met with the Headmaster. I was holding a silver pendant this morning." Two statements. Two facts. One conclusion.

"You were Obliviated." Neville puts it bluntly, carefully turning the pendant in his hands. "Anything stronger would have cracked it."

"But why? It's the Headmaster, why would he do something like that? And to Harry!"

"Hermione, calm down. I-I was warned before I came here, that there would be people trying to use me, and people trying to kill me... and hey, at least I know the Headmaster wants me alive." He's fighting to stay calm, and he really doesn't want to think about this anymore just yet. He utters a soft laugh, "the last thing I remember is feeling light headed, and I couldn't seem to stop speaking. Then I 'woke up' in the Headmaster's office."

"Oh Harry!" Hermione's wraps him in a hug. "What do you suppose... he made you forget?"

"Who knows? I don't." He finds himself leaning into the hug slightly. All of this is making him miss home.

Neville shrugs, "well I suppose all we can do is take steps to stop it happening again."

* * *

Even though she's collected her wand from Sigi she can't shake the feeling of foreboding now that she's chosen to accompany Lockhart. She scoffs at the idea that now of all times she is experiencing the Black's ability of future-sensing. That, is frankly ridiculous, however – no way is a ... well anyone like Lockhart going to be a threat to her.

She doesn't mind the suggestion of a small restaurant that he's familiar with for lunch. It's his grating attempts at small talk which really bother her – mainly because his idea of small talk seems to consist of talking about himself and the new book he's about to release – something about vampires apparently – which quite possibly explains what he's doing here.

The next trigger of unease is when he invites her to walk before him into the restaurant. She doesn't exactly want him at her back after all. Still, it is the polite, expected thing for a man to do and it passes without incident. He does know the owner – given the welcoming smile and they're led to a nice table – set back enough from the restaurant front that people won't be able to see them as they eat their meals.

There is a bitter aftertaste to her first mouthful that leaves her paused, second forkful halfway to her mouth. She puts it down mind racing. She smiles sweetly at Lockhart, taking instead a sip of her drink – apple juice – if you must know – pumpkin is a great disabler of many potions but apple has its perks too, not as effective sure, but far easier to get hold of in the Muggle world and better for counteracting poison – at least magical ones. Something about like magics cancelling out. She knows from Harry that even the Muggles acknowledge the danger of the poison apple – even if it has been relegated to a children's tale.

His blue eyes seem darker, more dangerous as he smiles back and for the first time she realises that while it is a toothy smile – truly it's more like a shark's smile – there's that element of predator eying prey – and her own smile grows wooden on her face. She's faster though – she's flung herself from her chair even as the spell is loosed from his wand – the red of the stunning spell washes over her.

She has her own wand in hand – and she pushes at the feeling of Apparition only to rebound off the wards. Fine. It'll be wands and fists then. Instinct has her rolling away, flipping a nearby table and taking cover. Of course, it's the owner – possibly any other staff as well. Minimum two opponents, unknown capabilities, aiming to incapacitate/capture though – from the spells. Why? Do they know who she is? Is it revenge or some other motive? She can already feel the effects of whatever potion/poison they drugged her with – she's sluggish. Her arm feels heavy as she lifts her wand to cast.

"Expelliarmus!" It's ripped from her hand before she utters a syllable. An Incarcerous later and she's tied up and glaring furiously at the two wizards.

The "owner" smirks, "You're very impressive, certainly one of the few to have noticed the laced food – and I commend you on your resistance."

She sneers at him wordlessly, frantically trying to figure out who they would have done this to before and why. In the end she just spits it out. "Why?"

Lockhart gives her his shark-smile. "For the money of course, and the fame."

At her apparently uncomprehending expression they explain – something leaving her grateful for monologuing – she's done it herself – being on the receiving end is annoying, but it does offer opportunity for escape – or possibly she's just being overly optimistic. They Obliviate heroes. Ordinary people who have done something incredible to protect the ones they love or themselves – various dangerous creatures all having fallen to their wands – only to be offered a book deal and receive a stab in the back as they're Obliviated and everyone willing to speak up for them undergoing the same or being bought off. They rewrite memories, casting Lockhart in the hero's role and get disgustingly rich off it. Before she'd never appreciated just how disturbing that spell was – but now she was thinking she should get Harry to campaign to add it to the list of Unforgivables. That is, if she ever gets out of here intact.

"Don't worry. It won't hurt," he grins, "or at the least – if it does, you won't remember it."

"You won't get away with this." She's aware of how clichéd she sounds – she's actually quoting the words of former opponents. She follows it up somewhat differently after they laugh. "I'll hunt you down and make you wish you'd merely been imprisoned in Azkaban." Neither seems to appreciate just how badly they'd have to be tortured to prefer Azkaban and the Dementors.

She meets Lockhart's blue eyes fearlessly as he raises his wand before her. It's over then.

He incants. "Obliviate!"

* * *

"Okay, then. Now onto more important things," Neville began. He ignored the incredulous looks from the newly forgetful Boy-Who-Lived and the brightest witch in their year. "You both promised to explain further to me," Neville continued, "Muggle children find entertainment in watching various animated drawing's of animals being blown up, and being otherwise harmed by having anvils, pianos and large weights dropped upon them?"

It was an obvious subject change, but a welcome one. Something light-hearted, something that didn't involve the sheer horror that anyone, especially someone placed in a position of trust could so utterly violate the memories of one of their number. Not a prisoner, not a suspect, but a child, a student, a friend – and it could so easily have been any one of them. Harry and Hermione didn't need to think it through for even a moment before nodding.

"Yes, but on the other hand, in the Wizarding World every eleven year old child is handed a deadly weapon." Harry pointed out.

"Okay, so we're a terribly bloodthirsty race. Is that it?" Neville began, before a considering look crossed his face.

"What is it?" Hermione questioned, curious as to the cause of his expression.

"Maybe we shouldn't bother with a peaceful revolution after all, I mean, we're a bloodthirsty race, should we not try to embrace it? Mayhem and murder in the streets! Down with the corrupt Ministry! Install our..." he paused, eyeing Hermione, "...favourite Muggleborn witch as the new Minister for Magic. To the hells with the blood nonsense regarding the position! Enforce fairness and equal rights to all."

"Great idea, Nev." Harry agreed, "We can call ourselves the ... Life Drinkers, even if that sounds like a bunch of vampires."

Hermione looked back and forth between the boys. She couldn't help it... she snorted trying not to laugh. "I think that's enough, my loyal Life Drinkers." She declaimed in an airy tone.

"Your wish is our command... my...er... Lady." Harry ended with a frown.

"Do we get costumes? Oh, don't look at me like that, the Death Eaters had their masks and black robes – and yes I realise that nearly everyone at school wears black robes, but they also left the Dark Mark in the sky. What do we get?"

"Well... for one thing, I think you might be getting a little too into this Neville, and two I don't know what the Dark Mark is... but I'll grant that masks could be fun."

It was Harry's turn to laugh. "Let me guess, when you first heard you were a witch Hermione, you wanted to be a superhero."

While the blush that marked the girl's cheeks was endearing, the dangerous glint in her eyes and the wand held in a clenched fist clearly weren't. "Well..." She trailed off, brow furrowed, "That. Is. Not. Fair." She continued enunciating each word with a bite, "I was about to ask if you didn't do the same upon learning you were a wizard, but then I remembered you would have learnt about being the Boy-Who-Lived, so in the eyes of the populace I'm sure you already are one... a superhero that is."

Turning from one frustrated friend to the other, Neville sighed. "And a superhero is?"

"Modern equivalent of a legendary hero, usually with 'super' powers – like flight, super-speed, super-strength, elemental abilities... those sorts of things." Hermione reeled off a quick definition, barely seeming to notice the question.

The chubby Gryffindor considered this. "So to the Muggles, we have superpowers?"

The two Muggle-raised turned their attention back to him. "Yes," Hermione murmured. "I suppose we do."

* * *

[AN: I'm still alive! Merry Christmas all, & a Happy New Year!

Thank you to everyone who took the time to review. :) I'm amazed people kept reading and reviewing even after seeing how long since I last updated. **Thank you thank you thank you!** You made me feel happy and guilty… for obvious reasons I'm sure. Unbelievably, most of this (a.k.a more than 50%) has sat on my hard drive since the last update… so it was half-written heh… I just needed to finish it… but then I got caught up in trying to work out how Obliviate works, and then real life was upon me…but thankfully I got a chance to take a few train trips this year – which is when I do a lot of writing.

So thank you. Hope you enjoyed this chapter even given the long wait… I make no promises on the next… I can tell you it's going to be called something like "Black Cherries"… if you can figure that out… I'll be really impressed and wondering if I AM too obvious…

Additional thanks to all those German speakers who corrected me on my phrasing and meanings of words in the last chapter. I've picked what I thought would make sense given that the Wizarding world tends to be a bit backward.

Sigi calling the wand 'him' - I have a German friend who occasionally forgets and gives gender to some of our genderless English nouns. From what I could find - the German for wand is a masculine noun.

I'm impressed that a lot of people figured out Lockhart for the 'expert'.No comment on Bella's animagus - that will be revealed later.

Hermione wanting to be a superhero or have superpowers… As much as she would like to pretend otherwise… she's still a kid, and she still needs people, and superpowers are cool. *g*

And yes. I am evil. To do that to Harry and then to Bella. *evillaugh*

Have some random bonus material...

OMAKE (Bella/Lockhart):

She'd only gone in the shop to browse; and if she was honest, to buy some awful tacky items to gift to Harry and Alphard (and maybe sneak one to Cissa at some point). She was fingering a particularly gauche item when she was bumped into. By a stumbling stammering somewhat attractive man.

"I'm so sorry. Damn. Er… bitte, danke?" He winced at his noticeable lack of even rudimentary German. He offered her an apologetic half-grin instead.

"It's okay" she interrupted before he could make another attempt.

"You're British!" He exclaimed. " Ah, that is er…" He held out a hand, "I'm Gilderoy."

"Isabella, Bella really." She replied taking his hand.

"So…" he trailed off, "holidaying? With friends?" He gave her an appraising look.

"Alone actually, yourself?" Well that was stupid, she told herself, introduce yourself to a strange man and tell him you're a single woman travelling alone. Idiot.

"Me too, well it's supposed to be a working holiday…"

"A working holiday? You get paid to go on holiday?"

He laughed "No, no. I'm a writer, I came here to hopefully get some fresh ideas for a new book… but I've yet to come across anything that… really added something."

"Hmm," she was about to say more when embarrassingly her stomach rumbled. She felt her cheeks heat, "Ah maybe I shouldn't have skipped out on breakfast."

"Oh, let me take you to this little restaurant I know… it's not on the tourist maps I promise, but the food is really good."

She wavered on indecision… to go with this blond handsome stranger who could be a serial axe murderer she reminded herself, or not to go… wait, she was Isabella Black, not Bellatrix Lestrange… and that meant… she was SINGLE! She could go on a date… test the waters… see how the game had changed in her 10+ year absence… She winced at that… 10-plus years of no kisses, no lust filled mutual gropings, nothing except her own… she stopped her thoughts there. She smiled at Gilderoy.

"It sounds wonderful."

[cue romance? Heh, this could work for a Muggle AU as well. Would that be ex-asylum inmate/ex-con meets travel writer? Some other kind of writer? Actually I feel that Gilderoy would be writing those overly florid/smutty romance books – Lockhart would write for Mills&Boon / Harlequin romances.. that type, yep]

OMAKE: Superhero names...

Introducing the wonderful, the amazing, the incredible... Magic Trio! Smart-girl! Plant-boy! Annnnnd... Live-boy!

(er, Live-boy, isn't that kinda obvious? In fact, all of these names are pretty lame).

Shut up Live-boy. I don't see you coming up with anything better.

[I don't know, Her-I mean Smart-girl, they are quite awful].

Look, who's idea was this anyway?

(Yours, oh wise and wonderful Smart-girl).

...

(Yes?)

...Okay, so maybe, just maybe you're right and the names aren't that good. I just couldn't think of anything better. I mean none of us have particular trademarks – I suppose we could call you Lightning... for your scar like Cyclops gets named for his visor.

(Better than four-eyes... or Live-boy, really H-Smart-girl?)

[Book-girl? No I suppose that sounds like a librarian, not really a superhero name...although didn't you say the names were to hide our identities?]

Yes. Oh. I see what you mean, Ha-Lightning is too obvious a name.


End file.
